


Almost Normal

by blackpercy



Series: We Could Be Heroes [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mortal, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Alternate Universe - Vigilante, F/F, F/M, annabeth is only here to kiss girls and that's so valid of her, bc this will have mroe chapters than Almost Impossible so it might be a bit overwhelming, comic plot au, how we feeling guys 😎 we are on part 2!!, ill try and space out my update schedule, im posting because im almost done, leorachel and jasper are comphet and there's a message im trying to send akjndskjank dw, please read almost impossible (part 1 in the series) before you read this one!!, to read all at once, ur literally not gonna understand wtf is up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28038810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackpercy/pseuds/blackpercy
Summary: At the strange New Rome Academy Summer School, Hazel Levesque, Percy Jackson, and Rachel Dare discover the details of Hylla's grand plan. The enthusiastic dance teacher and the legendary vigilante known as Atalanta plans on waging war on crime in New Rome with the most powerful weapon known to mankind: superpowers. When the pressures of the superpowered life catch up to them, every kid training under Hylla struggles to adjust to their new normal in addition to the trauma done to them at the steel mill.Welcome to New Rome, it's gonna be a wild ride.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase & Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase & Rachel Elizabeth Dare, Annabeth Chase/Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano, Bianca di Angelo & Nico di Angelo, Hazel Levesque & Frank Zhang, Hylla Ramírez-Arellano & Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano, Jason Grace & Piper McLean & Leo Valdez, Jason Grace/Piper McLean, Nico di Angelo & Hazel Levesque, Percy Jackson & Hylla Ramirez Arellano, Rachel Elizabeth Dare & Hazel Levesque, Rachel Elizabeth Dare & Leo Valdez, Rachel Elizabeth Dare & Percy Jackson, Rachel Elizabeth Dare/Leo Valdez
Series: We Could Be Heroes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020228
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	1. Your Dad's A Murderer So Obviously The Solution Is Vigilantism

**Author's Note:**

> in the THRILLING 🏃♀️ sequel to Almost Impossible™️ user:blackpercy ✊🏿ups ⬆️⬆️ the stakes😤😤😤 for a fast paced 💨 fanfiction 🤓🖊️ of novel quality 😌😌 Gotham Academy 🦇 meets X-Men 😵💫 blackpercy ✊🏿 has written 🖊️🖊️ a story 📚 to be remembered 🌱🧐

At one point, every kid thinks their parents are evil.

Maybe it starts at six, when Mom and Dad don’t want to “save” their child from the monsters under the bed. Maybe it’s ten, when the comparisons to other, better, kids begin. 

Rachel has always had a rough relationship with her parents, and the child in her had always thought of them as the villains.

The problem is, she was right.

Her parents keep trying to groom her to take over the company. Rachel had always resisted, causing her father to shout at her “disrespect.” Rachel finds it difficult to respect someone who leaves for months on end and only comes back to berate her.

They had tried grounding her, switching her schools every six months, and threatening her with an all-girl’s school. Then they pretend to care. Rachel isn’t sure if it’s scarier when they’re mad or when they’re nice.

On the fateful evening of October the sixth, one day before her twelfth birthday, Rachel’s father had been trying out the “nice” strategy.

He had insisted on picking her up from an art club only to not show. It was raining, the dark skies seemed to thunder in indignation for her. Rachel appreciated that something had cared, even if it was only the weather.

“Stupid parents,” Rachel had muttered. She had lifted her backpack over her head and started to walk home, kicking a jagged rock in front of her with every step. Their home in Brooklyn was several miles away, but she didn’t have any other option but to walk. She had called her dad a million times only to get no response. Her mom was on a mission trip in Brazil. The kids in her school didn’t exactly like her, and the one person who was cool with her had already left.

After an hour, Rachel recognized the area she had stumbled into. It was a swanky area with trendy high rises and expensive shops. All grey steel and advertising boards. Even if she tried to avoid her father’s business, Rachel had recognized the tallest skyscraper of them all: her father’s.

“Please let this work,” Rachel had mumbled. Her red braids were soaking wet, and she had just gotten them done. “ _Please_ , let dad be in here.”

It was an unlikely prayer, her father had skyscrapers around the state and in every major city in America, but she still whispered it as she reached for the cold handle.

Locked.

Cursing, Rachel sprinted to the back of the building. There was a keypad that opens the back door, if she could guess the code she could get out of the rain.

Rachel willed the tint of green to surround her vision. At basically twelve, she was already accustomed to her strange powers. She had had them her entire life. Maybe they could tell her the code if she made them.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” she whispered. No matter how hard she squeezed her eyes, the green fog never came. “Just _work_!”

“Please!”

A deep feminine voice shouted behind her. Quickly, Rachel jumped behind a fake bush. She didn’t want a random person to find her, especially with the rising murder rate in America’s major cities. 

Rachel could feel her heart beating out of her chest as she peeked through the branches. They scratched her skin and the rain seeped through her clothes, but she willed herself to stay still.

The woman was gangly, wearing all black, and her hair was greasy and dark. Her movements were frantic, like a panicked animal. Rachel could see her stumbling around with his hands up.

“Don’t kill me,” she said. A tell-tale wobble in her voice conveyed her masked fear, though. Rachel frowned from the bushes. “Let me speak to Kronos, Richard, I-I can explain…”

Another pair of footsteps was heard right behind the man. This person had large feet clad in dark leather Salvatore Ferragamo. The heels clacked against the slick pavement behind the building. A gun lazily hung by the man’s hip. The person walked slowly, like they had all the time in the world.

The person had brown skin like hers, it peeks out from a soaked sock. His suit was a familiar black Versace, with a red pocket square. Rachel couldn’t clearly make out his face, but something in her recognized him.

“You betrayed Kronos,” the man with the gun rumbled. “You know that there’s no forgiveness for that, Nemesis.”

“A new age is coming!” The woman had said hysterically. She backed up, closer to Rachel’s hiding place. “Luke Castellan will raise us up to the status of gods! He wi-”

A gunshot made Rachel flinch. A pool of dark blood spread out from under the woman named Nemesis' leg. She groaned, then laughed maniacally.

“You can’t stop what’s coming,” she had said quietly. “Join Castellan. He can give you money you’ve never _dreamed_ of,” she giggled madly. 

The man with the gun hadn’t said anything. He had simply raised the gun one more time.

“Come on, Richard,” the woman on the floor had said. “Don’t—”

At the same time the final shot had rang out, realization had condensed like a bullet and aimed at Rachel’s heart. There are a million Richards in New York, a gazillion on Planet Earth, but there was only one Richard who wore Salvatore Ferragamo black leather shoes and had a rumbly voice.

She had seen him this morning, getting ready for work and talking to her mother on the phone.

The rusty stench of blood filled the bush Rachel was hiding in. The glassy eyes of Nemesis' corpse stared at the rainy sky, and a dreamy smile twisted her dead lips. The rain mixed with the trickle of blood coming from her mouth. Rain diluted the scarlet pool beneath the man and formed a river of blood streaming toward the gutter.

 _Run_ , a voice whispered to her. She couldn’t, though, she was stuck in her spot. She couldn't stop staring at the corpse. Where a living and breathing person had once stood, there was only a soulless body lying on the ground.

Her father had kneeled beside the woman, undisturbed by the blood staining his suit. He reached into Nemesis’ pocket and produced a golden card. Rachel had seen that card on the news. It was the mark of one of Luke’s gang members, the elite in his society. 

Rachel watched as he snapped the card in half. His hazel-green eyes, eyes that she had inherited, swept across the area, searching for spies. Rachel had shrunk in on herself, hoped the thick bushes did something to hide her from the eyes of her father. 

When he had found none, Richard produced a large lighter from his pocket. His hands were gloved, something she had never noticed before. Rachel watched in horror as he burned the hands of Nemesis to a blackened shrub. He moved on to her feet, the stench of burning flesh filled the air. Finally, her father took the lighter and let the flames devour Nemesis’ face.

“I have to pick up my daughter,” Richard had mumbled right after. He stood up, wiped his hands on his suit, and casually walked away from the scene.

  
  


.

.

.

For years afterward, the image of Nemesis' twisted remains would haunt Rachel.

The stench of burning flesh, the dark pools of blood running to the gutter, the ache in her knees as she squatted in those bushes for hours, unable to look away from the corpse.

Her father’s calm voice as he walked away.

Her image of her father had never been very good, but to discover he was a murderer, a member of Kronos’ gang, had completely reworked how she saw her world.

On the morning of October seventh, Rachel wasted no time. 

Her father had already left for his office, he had only left a note that said “happy birthday”. She did not care, not anymore.

She had new birthday plans. There was something new to wish for when she blew out her candles all alone that night. It wasn’t a wish; more of a goal, more like a plan.

Step one: gather information on Richard Dare and Kronos.

Step one, part A: learn how to fight.


	2. T Is For Trauma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Presidential Alert: THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTINGGGG

It’s hard to believe he left New York a week ago.

Percy blindly nods as he listens to Annabeth talk about her art and crafts project. The New Rome Academy cafeteria is large and chaotic. Students chat with their friends, sit on top of tables, use their phones. Large windows illuminate the wide space.

Percy and Annabeth sit at a table in the center of the cafeteria. There are brightly-colored wrappers on the table, the last group hadn’t cleaned up their lunch. He picks at the school quality mac and cheese.

“Percy, are you even listening?” 

His attention snaps back to Annabeth, who is raising a blonde eyebrow and glaring at him. He smiles sheepishly.

“No. Can you say that again?”

For a girl who had gotten an invitation to be a child soldier less than twenty-four hours ago, Annabeth is rather chatty. Percy hasn’t been in the mood to talk very much, not since Hylla had spoken to them yesterday.

“Sleep on it,” Hylla had told him. “Maybe you’ll change your mind.”

No surprise, after a fitful night of sleep, Percy still hasn’t changed his mind.

The problem is that Percy can’t just commit to something that...that big. Hylla is asking him to His hands shake with the memory of the last time he had used his powers. It had been a month after they had been rescued. Even if they escaped the steel mill, Percy’s biggest problem had been his stepdad, a guy named Gabe.

Gabe had been an alcoholic and...not the  _ nicest  _ guy. When he had laid a hand on his mom after she took a late shift, something in Percy had snapped.

When he woke up, their apartment was flooded and Gabe was gone.

* * *

_ “Mom?” _

_ Percy had woken up with his head pounding and his clothes soaking wet. Groggily, he blinked to see the face of his mother staring down at him. Her brown eyes had been full of worry, wrinkles were set into burnished brown skin. _

_ Sitting up, Percy examined their apartment. The curtains had been torn from their bearings, the TV fizzled face down from the floor. The beige walls of Gabe’s apartment held the dark marks of water damage. _

_ “M-mom?” Fear had torn Percy up from the inside. “Did I—did I do it again? I–is Gabe...is he dead?” _

_ Sally had shaken her head and pulled Percy into a hug. Her clothes had been in the same state of drenched. The Dominican woman stroked her son’s hair to calm him down, but Percy could still see the damage done by him over her curly hair. _

_ “We’re gonna figure this out, mijo,” Sally had whispered. “You and me.” _

_ “This isn’t your fault,” she had whispered, over and over again. Even when Percy had broken down, knowing he had just ruined his mother’s life, she still whispered those words to him. In English, Spanish, she still repeated them over and over. _

_ This isn’t your fault. _

* * *

His mom told him that Gabe had run off, which was a relief. For all his youth, Percy doesn’t think he’d be able killing someone else, accident or not.

Sally hadn’t wasted time moving them out. Gabe had stupidly left his wallet and, as a result, Sally had had no qualms about getting a new apartment. They had stayed with a friend for a month before settling in a different part of the Spanish Harlem. 

The guilt still wracks Percy's mind when he thinks of the thousands of dollars his mother had to pay in damages and costs for renting another apartment. Mentally calculating the expenses had become a nightly routine for him, as natural as counting sheep. The bills start flying in his mind, even if the event had happened months ago.

“Percy!”

Annabeth’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. She’s looking at him worriedly, and there’s a new person sitting across from them.

“Hey,” Rachel says nervously. Her auburn twists are half-up-half-down, and she’s wearing the purple t-shirt for the summer camp. “Is now a good time? Cause I wanted to talk to you.”

* * *

There are exactly three things Percy knows about Rachel.

1: She’s rich. Filthy, stinking, “trips to the Caribbean” rich.

2: Her parents are never around.

And 3: She’s incredibly invested in Hylla's proposal.

Hylla had explained everything to them, some of it, Percy already knows. There are three men battling for control over the crime world of America. Their names are Krios, Kronos, and Luke Castellan. Because of them, crime rates have spiked in every major city, New Rome seeing the worst of it. 

Vigilantes have come and gone in the five years since Luke Castellan rose to power, but the world has never seen superpowers. Hylla had explained to them that if they were trained, they could take down the criminal underworld, restore New Rome (and everywhere, she had added in a rush) to its former glory, and learn how to control their powers.

To Percy, it sounds nice. He just doesn’t care.

Rachel, though? She had eaten it up. Along with everyone else, she had accepted the offer. Percy was the only one to refuse.

That must be what she’s talking to him about. The library has a no talking policy, which is why they sit in the very back, near the windows, and pretend to read books.

“Why don’t you want Hylla to train you?” Rachel asks him, her voice a comical whisper as she pages through a Shakespeare nonchalantly. “It could really help your...control problem.”

Percy frowns at her. “Am I the only person here who’s  _ not  _ hype about being a child soldier?”

“ _ That’s _ an oversimplification,” Rachel mutters. She ignores Percy’s glare and keeps speaking. “Percy, honestly, I thought you’d be the most enthusiastic about this.”

“Why? Because I nearly kill someone every time I…” He can’t even say the word. Powers? Abilities? If he says it, that makes it real, and it  _ can’t  _ be real. It  _ shouldn’t  _ be real.

Rachel stares at him from above the book. Her green eyes analyze him, the gears in her mind turn. It’s a strange look that makes Percy squirm in his seat.

The blare of an ambulance runs by the window of the library, then a cop car, and another one, and another one. New York had been noisy, but not this noisy. It’s yet another reminder that they’re in the crime capital of the world.

“Percy,” Rachel says gently. She closes the book and looks at him intently. “You have these powers whether you like it or not. Just learn to control them so you won’t be miserable your entire life.”

He scoffs, even though he shouldn’t. “Easy for you to say.”

“What does that mean?”

Percy raises an eyebrow at her in amusement. Her head is slightly cocked to the side, her eyebrows furrow inquiringly. It’s unbelievable. She  _ really  _ doesn’t see it.

“Well,” he shifts his positions and shrugs. “What do you do? You see the future and you make time stop when you get really nervous or something. You’ve always had your... _ abilities... _ so you don’t have to get used to something new. Your parents are rich and you don’t have anybody trying to snoop in your business. Out of all of us,  _ you  _ have it the easiest.”

She’s silent for a good second. Her face is blank for a scary amount of time until she registers his words. Percy has never known Rachel to get angry, but the rage and offence that cross her features is something he can never forget.

“Shut  _ up _ ,” Rachel snaps.

The soft lines on Rachel’s face harden into stone. She looks betrayed, and she’s not going to let it go. Percy blinks at the venom in her words and her gaze. He scoots away a little bit.

“Rachel, all I meant was-”

“ _ Shut. Up. _ ” Rachel grits the words out. Her anger is ill-contained as she shakes her head.

“I’ll be your friend,” she says clearly, looking him in the eyes. “I  _ thought  _ I was your friend, but one thing I’m never going to be is your punching bag.”

“Why do you care so much?” He needs to know why she’s so  _ mad _ . He needs to know why  _ he’s  _ starting to get mad. “None of this stuff with Hylla even affects you, why are you so invested?”

Anger flashes in her eyes again. Her next words come out calmly and slowly. “You think you know everything, huh?”

“I’m just-”

She holds up a hand, a lack of emotion laces her tone dangerously. “ _ I’m not done. _ ” 

“ _ How dare you _ assume you know everything about my life,” she spits. “How  _ dare  _ you tell me I have it easy and  _ how dare you _ assume I’m just a nosy little rich girl who’s ‘a little bit bored’” 

There’s something about her tone that endlessly infuriates Percy. 

“Isn’t that what you are?” He responds angrily. “You don’t have to be here, but you  _ are _ . Nobody even knows why you’re here, but you’re somehow the loudest person in the room.”

“I was invited along with you!” Rachel shouts. She’s on her feet and looking down on him, her hands raised to the air. “You don’t get to act like I dragged myself here, not after...not after  _ everything  _ I’ve done!”

“You didn’t do anything!” Percy shouts back. “Stop acting like you did me a favor!”

“I’m not!”

“Then why are you here?” He asks, sharp and irritated. He stands, getting in her face. Indignation pumps through his veins. “So you can piss off your rich parents? Cause you think it’s cute to be a little rebel?”

“Stop acting like you know  _ anything  _ about me.” Rachel accentuates the statement with a jab to his chest. “Because you  _ don’t _ . You have no idea about the stuff I’ve been through, about the things I’m trying to do. I’m not  _ ‘invested’ _ , or whatever stupid word you chose, because I’m bored. I’m invested because I  _ have  _ to be.”

“Really,” Percy scoffs. “Because it honestly just sounds like you’re bored.

Rachel takes a step back and looks Percy up and down in disgust. In that moment, he can’t see the girl who risked everything for him and Annabeth. He sees someone who he doesn’t understand, and he doesn’t understand her because she’s stayed. Rachel didn’t even know who Percy and Annabeth were, but she still risked everything and stayed with them.

He doesn’t understand, so he tests. Percy pushes her to the edge, to see where her breaking point is, when she’ll finally leave him like she should.

He’s angry. He’s angry at her, at Hylla, at Gaea Craig, at everybody and nobody at the same time. Most of all, Percy’s angry at  _ himself _ .

“You know what,” Rachel says quietly, “I’m not gonna try and explain it to you. I’m better than that. Plus, even if I did, you’d still find some way to make me look bad”

She doesn’t let the conversation continue. Rachel swiftly collects her stuff and walks out of the library, finally leaving Percy behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ask questions if you need something explained to you or clarified! this is...a heavy plot


	3. How To Have A Gay Awakening When You're Emotionally Stunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i think this is the only annabeth chapter but...yeah, enjoy! :D

New Rome Academy’s Summer Camp had required a couple modifications.

The gym had been reconfigured for a massive climbing wall on the back wall, the bleachers collapsed to hang flatly on the left and right walls. The pool, located on the other side of the school, had a banner hanging across from wall to wall in an attempt to look “festive”. The dorms in the East Wing had been assigned for the next school year, and deemed neutral territory in Saturday’s capture the flag.

“We’ve got this,” Annabeth mutters to herself. She shifts her weight from foot to foot as she looks in the full length mirror in her and Reyna’s shared dorm room.

Her blond hair is pulled up into a ponytail, not a hair out of place. Annabeth is forced to wear the purple camp t-shirt, a color she isn’t very partial to, but it’s okay. It’s okay because her favorite sneakers are on, her flashlight is in her hand, and she’s not going to do great.

Usually, Annabeth loves physical activity. She’s played lacrosse for six years, and she intends on trying out for the team this year. She had been to summer camp for four years, so hiding in the woods is something she’s very good at.

This year is a little different because they’re not in the woods, they’re inside a big school, but it’s essentially the same idea.

“Reyna,” Annabeth turns to the younger girl, who is sitting on her bed and writing something on paper. “How long has Atalanta been Atalanta?”

Just in case there are recorders in the room, Annabeth doesn’t say “Hylla”. As baffling a figure Hylla is, she’d never want to leak her identity.

Reyna meets her eyes curiously. “Wait, you haven’t heard of her?”

“No. That’s why I’m asking.”

“She’s on the FBI watchlist,” Reyna raises an eyebrow. “CNN did a report on her.”

Annabeth turns to face her with crossed arms, clearly unamused. “You don’t really have time to watch TV when you’re president of three clubs, part of an inter-county program, playing lacrosse, and…”

Annabeth could say “getting kidnapped” but she opts not to say that.

Reyna shrugs simply, ignoring the blonde’s blunder. “She’s been working for around six years. I remember when she first started, I was really young. She saved a bus full of elementary school kids from a masked kidnapper calling themselves _Kindergarten_ \--I assume you know their shtick-- and immediately got shot in the leg.” She smiles at the memory. “She’s my hero.”

There’s a warmth in Reyna’s smile that makes Annabeth catch her breath. The other girl is usually reserved or professional, she doesn’t open up easily. That’s something Annabeth can relate to. 

But when Reyna’s eyes land on hers again, the smile has vanished.

“You need to talk to Percy,” Reyna says seriously. “If he doesn’t learn control...he could snap one day and kill someone.”

Annabeth decides not to tell her that he already has.

“Reyna, someone could be _listening_.” Annabeth hushes her playfully. It’s unlike her, making people laugh isn’t exactly her forte. It’s worth it, though, because Reyna laughs for a brief second before shaking her head.

“Don’t worry,” she says nonchalantly. “I checked the room for bugs before we got here.”

Blinking, Annabeth tugs on a stubborn bit of hair. She had... _not_ expected that answer.

“About the Percy thing,” Annabeth changes the subject before it can get more awkward. “Rachel was supposed to do talk to him, but she got him mad at her and now they’re not talking anymore.”

Thoughtfully, Reyna drums the pencil over her lips. “And he won’t listen to you?”

“He won’t even talk to me,” Annabeth scoffs. “Rachel guaranteed that.”

Annabeth’s feelings on Rachel are complicated. There’s something about the girl’s blunt honesty, bright smile, and open manner that needlessly pisses her off. She knows that it’s unfair, especially when she considers everything Rachel has done for her and Percy, but it’s how Annabeth feels.

There’s still a prick of guilt, though. Rachel had hidden Annabeth for a month while she was invisible. She had taken her to a huge penthouse in Brooklyn and allowed her to behold the glory of her world.

Rachel seemed to hate it, though.

Annabeth recalls the way Rachel had sighed when she unlocked the door. The long look in her green eyes as they scanned her massive home. 

Actually, the penthouse resembled a museum more than a home. White on gray steel, minimalist furniture, and everything had been perfectly in its place. Works of art had hung on the walls, sculptures on tables. 

There had been no life in Rachel’s house. Even invisible, Annabeth could see the unfamiliar way Rachel had crossed the rooms. It hadn’t looked like a place where a couple with a fourteen-year-old daughter would live. It looked like a house Annabeth would admire in an architecture magazine.

A sour taste develops in Annabeth's mouth as she realizes how much she’s been thinking of Rachel. She blinks, once and hard, then begins to tune back into the present. Her small dorm room she shares with Reyna, the girls’ dorms wing of the school, New Rome Academy.

Vigilantism. Percy. That’s what they’re talking about.

“Maybe Bianca could do it,” Reyna murmurs to herself. “Or Nico, but he might hate him and-”

“Who are Bianca and Nico?” Annabeth asks. Blond eyebrows meet in the center of her forehead as she tries to connect her words. “Do they have powers too?”

Reyna’s dark eyes brighten with excitement. Again, Annabeth wonders how many emotions and layers are hidden under a stoic mask.

“You should have seen them in the beginning of the year,” she exclaims. “Bianca can control darkness and shadows and Nico...Nico talks to dead people. Which is...kind of creepy.”

Annabeth watches the brightness in Reyna retreat back into its hole. She desperately wants to pull it back out, shake it, even, till it blinds her eyes.

Reyna goes back to her work and doesn’t speak till they have to leave for the gym. Tapping Annabeth’s shoulder, she tries for a smile.

“I, um, I’m not good with friends,” Reyna rubs her elbow self consciously. “It’s only ever been me, Hylla, and...it _used_ to be my dad. Hylla’s been training me for years and I help her with cases, so I’ve never had time to talk to people my own age.” She meets Annabeth’s eyes, silently hoping she catches her drift. 

Annabeth does. And she _understands_. She really, _really_ understands and she wishes she could just blurt it out and tell Reyna that. 

There a million things Annabeth feels like she can blurt out right now. She’s nervous for training and she doesn’t know how to be a good hero and she hopes Percy doesn’t keep ignoring her and--

And Reyna... _Reyna_ has a really nice laugh and she’s staring at her strangely and Annabeth needs to shut her thoughts off.

But she can’t.

So Annabeth smiles and wraps an arm around Reyna’s shoulders. She pushes them to the gym and ignores the fluttering feeling inside her.

“I get it,” is all Annabeth says. “I get it.”


	4. Hey, Kids! It's Time To Learn Social Skills!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> big brother frank and can something that is so personal....

If Hazel could stop time, she would stop the school tour.

Summer camp is boring enough, but being forced to wander a massive school in the middle of the day when you have ADHD is even harder.

The worst part is that Hazel is standing near to an unpleasant boy named Octavian and Frank, her best friend, is on the other side of the school doing archery in the gymnasium. 

Hazel smiles at the thought of her friend. Frank is two and a half years older than her eleven, Chinese-Canadian, and he likes archery. Frank had been with her months ago, in the cold, dank steel mill. He had asked his grandmother to let Hazel stay with them, and they had grown close. 

Frank is the only person in the entire school who Hazel completely trusts. She definitely trusts him more than Hylla, the strange woman who had offered to train her along with the other steel mill kids. Ironically, Hylla’s vigilante persona, Atalanta, is the topic of conversation. 

Hazel looks around the hallway Mr. Terminus has stopped in. None of the kids are paying attention to him, all of their ears and eyes are focused on Reyna and Octavian. The two are caught in a heated argument, just behind Hazel.

“Atalanta protects the city!” Reyna insists. “And she does it much better than the police officers or the government. She’s the only thing standing in the way of complete chaos.”

Piper, the girl who had broken her out of the steel mill all those months ago, nods sagely from a couple feet away. She seems strangely at ease to Hazel, like she isn’t at a boarding school and about to be trained by a vigilante.

“Agreed,” Piper chimes. “Atalanta’s cool. Kind of scary, but cool.”

This situation is amusing to Hazel because Octavian is speaking to the sister of Atalanta. Additionally, the legend herself is keeping herself from grinning as she passes by their groups.

“I wouldn’t expect you to know anything about how this city works,” Octavian snarls at Piper. “Once you spend a couple months here, you’ll understand who’s fault it is.”

Jason, who had been quietly listening and stifling a smile, frowns deeply. “Alright, maybe you should just calm down.”

Octavian rolls his eyes. “Here comes the knight in shining armor. Where did you say you were from?”

“Wonderland,” Leo deadpans. He glances at Octavian with a roll of his eyes. "Seriously, how stupid do you think we are?"

"Pretty stupid."

"Says _you_."

Hazel watches as another argument breaks loose between Leo and Octavian. She remembers Leo, he had used a taser on a scientist in the steel mill. The small girl sees Rachel standing next to him, an eyebrow raised in intrigue.

Seeing Rachel makes Hazel wish she was gone. She hates that everything in this school reminds her of the steel mill. If she thinks of the mill, she thinks of her mother, and if Hazel thinks of Marie Levesque, a slew of complicated feelings takes over her.

Her mother had certainly been a complicated person. Mystic and deeply superstitious, Marie Levesque had worked as a fortune teller before her death. The aroma of sage, naïve strangers, and gauzy purple veils make up Hazel’s memories of her New Orleans home. Even after the crime rates started rising, Marie had always welcomed anybody at the door.

“It’s bad luck to turn away strangers,” she would wink. Brown eyes would sparkle, her deep-brown skin was always framed by an earthy toned head wrap. “It might be a god in disguise, looking for mortals to bless.”

The strangers had always scared Hazel. Quietly, she would draw in the corner, but her ear was tilted to the long veil covering the entrance to the kitchen, where her mother would read palms.

It had been stupid, looking back on it. Even her young mind, bruised and hurt as it is, knows it. Hazel’s head tells her that her mother had merely been a con artist, looking for a quick buck. Her heart screams the same thing, but gentler, to spare herself the damage.

Hazel forces herself to pay attention to the conversation. Reyna and Octavian are much closer now, and Reyna looks like she wants to punch someone. Octavian is turned to Jason, Piper, and Leo, a smug blond eyebrow lifted.

“Nevada? That explains a lot,” Octavian snorts at Leo. Then, condescendingly, he goes on to explain.

“Atalanta is a menace,” he shrugs. “If she actually let the police do their job, maybe this city wouldn’t be so bad. She plays hero but she doesn’t understand that she’s only making things worse.

“You’re gonna blame her for this city being crap?” Rachel joins in on the discussion, her lips quirk. “The blame is on the government, the cops, and _Krios_.”

The name sends shivers down the backs of every child in the room, including Hazel. She had been born in New Orleans, where the unrest reached Hazel’s neighborhood. Her mother had kept a collection of bricks thrown through their window on the dining table. As a reminder, she had told Hazel.

Still, the name invokes intrigue in her. On the first day of camp, Hylla had told every kid she invited in the office that the end goal is to take down three crime bosses, Krios, Kronos, and Luke Castellan. Hazel had heard of them on the news, but she had never felt anything personal to them. The three men are like forces of nature; dangerous and inevitable.

“Atlanta makes the city better,” Reyna shoots back, cutting off Hazel’s train of thought. “She does what nobody else is brave enough to do. I just hope she won’t always have to do it alone.”

Hazel begins to tune out the argument when Octavian starts to talk again. She searches for somebody to talk to, somebody random, who won’t remind her of everything she’s lost.

A boy with shaggy dark hair hangs in the corner. He looks to be around her age. He wears a grey t-shirt with a deck of cards printed on the front and baggy jeans. He has a book open in front of him, if Hazel moves a bit, she can see olive skin behind the pages. 

Hazel confidently walks up to him. Frank had said that the key to making friends in middle school is to act like you know who you are. Of course, Frank doesn't have many friends either, so maybe his advice isn't the best.

“Hi!”

The boy with the book flinches in surprise, dropping the book on the floor. Hazel cringes at her cheery tone and takes it down a notch.

“Sorry,” she apologizes. “Um, I’m Hazel. Hazel Levesque. I noticed you were standing here alone.”

The boy peers at her through curious dark eyes. “Thank you, um, I wasn’t lonely, or anything I just-”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Heat rushes to Hazel’s cheeks as she turns to go. How could she possibly be so stupid? Why would he want to be friends with her? She’s a random person and he probably thought she looked pitiful and-

“Wait.” The dark-haired boy taps her shoulder before she can go. When Hazel turns around, he’s smiling shyly. “My name’s Nico. You can stay if you want. My sister is doing the climbing wall in the gym, so I’m kind of by myself.”

Hazel grins brightly as she joins him against the lockers. Nico really likes Mythomagic, Pokemon, and Greek mythology. Hazel tells him that her favorite goddess is Hecate, and he says that his is Hades.

“Hades?” Hazel wrinkles her nose. “But he’s all _dark_ and _death_ and stuff.”

“No, that’s Thanatos,” Nico corrects. “Hades is just misunderstood. He minds his own business in the Underworld and he doesn’t hurt anybody. If anyone should get hate, it’s Zeus! He’s _terrible_.”

“But he controls the sky! That’s so cool!”

“Zeus is selfish,” Nico argues. “He purposefully made sure Hades didn’t get the good part of the world. Joke’s on him, though,” he smiles, “Hades ended up liking the Underworld.”

Hazel listens to Nico talk about Greek mythology intently. After the tour, she introduces her new friend to Frank, and Nico introduces her to Bianca.

“Friends, huh?” Frank elbows her in the side as they watch Nico and Bianca dump their trays at lunch. “I’m proud of you, Haze.”

Hazel nods, a smile spreading over her features for the millionth time that day. “Did you think I could do it?”

Frank shrugs and smiles at her fondly. “Why wouldn’t I?”

The younger girl beams at his words and sips from her water bottle. Happiness rarely visits her, not since the day her mother died. At first, Hazel had been wary about New Rome Academy, but now she might be hopeful.

 _Hope_ , she thinks giddily, _I think I like that_.


	5. Forming Friendships To Cope With Feelings Of Inadequacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> first day of training for our young vigilantes!

Rachel has been fighting for two and a half years.

She hadn’t told her parents what she wanted for her twelfth birthday, she hadn’t wanted anything from them. The minute Rachel had seen her father murder that man, though, she had retracted everything.

“I want to take gymnastics,” Rachel had told her father the day after her birthday. “And there’s a mixed martial arts studio nearby. Pay for my lessons.”

It directly contradicted the vow she had made when she was eleven, that she would never use her parents’ money, but it was for a good cause. That was what she told herself for two years when she packed her duffel bag and went to gymnastics meets and competitions.

Her father had been happy his daughter was finally letting him spend money on her. He thought that it was a step to controlling her, and then her accepting her place in the family. Little did he know, while his twelve year old daughter rose to the top of her martial arts class, took on jiu-jitsu, and won gymnastics trophies, she was planning his downfall.

* * *

Hylla makes them wake up at three AM, a sinful hour fit for a lawless city.

The sky is still dark, but it starts to lighten a bit. Even with the early hour, cars race by. An alarm can be heard in the distance, something that makes Rachel wince.

There’s an abandoned dance studio a miles or so away from New Rome Academy. Tucked on the edge of the heart of the city, is Atlanta’s lair. It’s leased to someone who had died years ago, a case that had never been investigated by the police. To anybody on the outside, it looks like yet another abandoned warehouse or building in Ryerson. What they don’t know is that the nondescript little building holds the biggest threat to crime in the city.

_ Hide in plain sight _ , is what Rachel presumes had been Hylla’s thought process. It’s smart, exactly how Atlanta would go about a problem. Exactly how  _ Rachel  _ wants to go about a problem. 

Hylla is always figuring out clever solutions to do something. Like how gave her trainees the location to the dance studio. After the school-wide Hide and Seek, Hylla had somehow slipped the address into their bags or pockets.

_ 4 AM sharp _ , the note had said.  _ Don’t be late or I’ll make you sprint home. _

With that, Rachel quietly slips out of the campus while everybody is asleep. Annabeth is ahead of her, talking to Reyna, Piper and Jason about something.

“Guys!” Rachel calls out, loud enough for them to hear her, but quiet enough so it doesn’t alert anyone. She runs to catch up to them and smiles.

“You guys excited?” Rachel asks eagerly. It’s obvious she’s excited. She’s practically bouncing up and down. 

Jason nods. “I’m...interested.”

Piper nudges him in the elbow with an eye roll. “It’s okay, Jason, you can say you’re an eager nerd like the rest of us.”

Jason nudges her back with a grin, and Rachel knows she hasn’t imagined the way Piper’s expression softens. Reyna clears her throat.

“Well, if you guys want to know what you’re up against,” she smiles a bit. “Hylla’s probably going to make you guys start with exercise, then she’ll work on stance and proper weight distribution, then she’ll teach a couple things. By next week, you guys will be sparring.”

“Why are you saying you guys like you aren’t training with us?” Piper asks her. “Aren’t you Hylla’s sister?”

“She’s been training me for years,” Reyna responds. “I thought I’d need the practice.”

Rachel nods. “Same. I’ve been training since I was twelve.”

“Wait, really?" Reyna grins, "In what?” 

“I was at a mixed martial arts studio, then I took up kickboxing along with it after a couple months.” Shyly, Rachel grins. “I wanted to learn from the real life...you know.”

Reyna beams and they talk animatedly about martial arts until they get to the studio. Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel can see Annabeth glaring at her.

“What’s wrong?” Rachel frowns. “Did I do something?”

Reyna, Jason, and Piper move on without them into the abandoned studio. Rachel falls back to face Annabeth, her head slightly cocked in confusion. Annabeth keeps her expression neutral. “No, you didn’t.”

“Dude,” Rachel sighs and tries for an understanding smile. "We're all at the same level here. What I learned is probably totally different from what we're all going to be learning. I don't have a headstart or anything."

Annabeth’s frown pulls deeper. “I said I’m  _ fine _ .”  With that, the blonde stalks into the dance studio, leaving a very confused Rachel behind.

* * *

Hylla had instructed them to meet in the basement of the studio.

Through a creaky wooden door inside a closet, there are two flights of steps that lead to a cold basement. The wood of the steps creak under Rachel’s Nike’s. The graffiti on the walls is hard to miss as she travels further down. On the third step to the ground, Rachel can see the white glare of fluorescent lights and a wall of mirrors.

The basement is larger than Rachel expected. Navy blue mats pave the floor. A punching bag is in the corner, suspended by a thick cord. On a crooked shelf, there are boxing gloves and rolls of white hand wraps. Ten bo staffs lean against a wall, six throwing knives are placed in suspended slots. Rachel spots two sets of escrima sticks laying horizontally in hooks and the leather hilts of sheathed daggers.

She’s never been in a room with so many different kinds of weapons.

Seven other kids wander around the room in amazement. Rachel recognizes five of them, all from the steel mill, sans Percy. 

Rachel’s heart hurts when she remembers her fight with Percy a couple days ago. There’s still a part of her that wishes she had just backed down, because maybe he wouldn’t be mad at her. She hates that part of her. It’s weak, and if she wants to stop what her father’s doing, she can’t be weak.

So, like a fire without oxygen, she kills it. 

_ He decided to be rude _ , Rachel reminds herself.  _ I was just trying to help, but if he’s scared, that’s up to him. I’m not responsible for him _ .

The thought doesn’t make her feel better, but it quenches the guilt. Taking a deep breath, Rachel looks around the room for a distraction.

There are two kids standing away from everybody else. The taller of the two is a girl with dark hair, olive skin, and a smattering of freckles on her young face. Her hair is pulled into twin braids and her workout clothes consist of a grey t-shirt and leggings. Protectively, she stays close to the younger boy. He’s a carbon copy of his sister, but his dark hair is fluffy and messy. 

Rachel’s never seen them before, so she goes to talk to them.

“Hey.”

The girl’s dark eyes dart to Rachel, who waves. Her jaw is set as she nods at her.

“Hi,” she says stiffly. 

Rachel holds out a hand. “I’m Rachel,” she says cheerfully. “I’m gonna assume you know about Hylla, because you’re here.”

The girl nods. “I’m Bianca. Hylla offered to let us go here and...well, we owe her a lot.”

That’s all Bianca says on the matter, because she steers herself and her little brother to the other side of the room. Rachel wonders what could have happened to make them so wary.

She hadn’t seen them at the steel mill, so they couldn’t be from there. If they were at the steel mill, Rachel would have tried to save them. Try, being the operative word, because that's all she could have done back then. That's all she can do now.

Nerves begin to set in as Rachel watches realization dawn on every kid in the room. This is no joke, they’re  _ actually  _ training to become vigilantes.

Rachel feels closer than ever to taking her father down. She’s about to be trained by a legendary vigilante, she’s going to learn new things about her powers.  Finally, Richard Dare won’t be able to hurt anybody else. If Rachel wants to infiltrate his part of the underworld, she needs to know how to fight like a  _ real  _ hero. 

She’s seen Youtube videos of Atalanta, along with the vision she had of Hylla on the first day of camp. Hylla’s better than her instructors at the martial arts and kickboxing studio, she’s better than anybody Rachel’s ever  _ seen _ .

And maybe the stars in Rachel’s eyes are misguided. Maybe she has been directing all her energy to stopping someone who can’t be stopped. But Atalanta... 

Atalanta had once been a teenage girl wanting to make a difference too. Hylla, the powerless human, had gotten herself to a position of infamy out of sheer willpower and a desire for justice.  Can’t Rachel?

When Hylla walks into the room, wearing black workout clothes, she barks at them all to line up. Rachel scrambles to stand next to Annabeth, her back perfectly straight. Hylla’s eyes notably linger on the absence of Percy, sighing when she realizes he won’t be coming.

“We’ll start with stretches,” Hylla says, allowing them to spread out. “Then we’re jumping right in.”

* * *

Four hours.

Four hours of  _ grueling _ ,  _ intense  _ training.

_ For the first day of training, Hylla doesn’t play around, _ Rachel thinks as she re-ties her big hair into a poof. 

They had stretched for twenty minutes, done cardio and strength training for an hour, then started on stance. Most of it, Rachel had already known. Hylla could tell.

“Rachel,” she had said, obviously impressed. “How long have you been training? And in what?”

Rachel remembers the heat that rushed to her cheeks. “I’ve been going to a mixed-martial arts place since I was twelve. Also kickboxing. And gymnastics.”

Hylla had stared at her for a good second, as if she was working out why a twelve year old had such profound interest in combat. Rachel had bared her teeth in an awkward smile.

She had  _ smiled. Awkwardly _ .

The truth is, Hylla is kind of Rachel’s hero. She’s following the “Atalanta” subject on Google, she’s been reading headlines and articles about her. Atalanta is fascinating. _Hylla_ is fascinating. She’s fighting crime at night and taking care of her little sister and teaching dance by day. She does so much, she works so hard…

Rachel wants to be just like Hylla.

“Good job, guys!” Hylla had said cheerfully after the fourth hour, ignoring the groans and grumbles of the nine children. “Remember, ten PM tonight we’re training for two hours.”

Rachel splashes water on her face. Eight AM, and the heat is suffocation outside the studio. The other kids are in similar states of weariness. 

Piper is sprawled on the concrete, Jason leans against the building, his blond hair glowing in the sun. Annabeth is still inside with Reyna. Hylla had made Reyna stay after and clean up, and Annabeth had followed her. The rest, Hylla had practically pushed out of the studio.

Rachel finds it interesting how she, Reyna, and the di Angelos are the only ones who seem tired. According to Hylla, who has Gaea Craig’s personal files, anyone who has taken the serum gets enhanced speed, strength, and endurance. 

What Rachel would do for some superhuman endurance right about now...

Everybody has their own group of two, even Annabeth, who’s been talking to Reyna. The thought makes Rachel really miss Percy. He would make a joke and shyly smile when Rachel teased him. Lucky for her, Frank and Hazel are friendly enough to extend an invite to Rachel.

Hazel is sweet and, at eleven, she’s the youngest out of all of them. She loves art, something Rachel is pleased to hear.

“Why didn’t you stay with your parents this year?” Rachel asks quietly. “Um, if it’s not too personal.”

Frank had told his story unprompted. He lives with his grandma in Canada, and he had been walking home when he’d been kidnapped. He’s relatively okay, just a little bit freaked out. The boarding school provided an opportunity for a new start for Frank, so his grandmother had sent him over.

Hazel’s face darkens in sadness at the question. Rachel regrets even asking.

“I’m sorry-”

“No,” Hazel shrugs. “It’s alright. They took me from my mom and…”

She doesn’t need to say it. Somehow, Rachel knows that Hazel’s mom has died. Rachel’s powers give her strange insight into many people. She knows when people are lying to her, and she can make scary accurate guesses.

The confession on Hazel’s part casts a dark mood over them. It’s yet another reminder that they’re not normal kids, as much as they want to be. Frank fidgets with his fingers, shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously.

“You should show her your powers,” Frank suggests quickly. In the five minutes they’ve been speaking, Rachel’s picked up that Frank is like Hazel’s big brother. Turning to Rachel, he forces a smile. “They’re really cool. She’s good at using them.”

Hazel beams shyly and reaches out a hand. Rachel watches as the air seems to ripple around her. She searches the ground and finds a snail crawling by her foot.

“Watch this.”

She reaches her palm toward the snail, and, in the blink of an eye, the snail turns into a stick.

Jumping back, Rachel screeches. “Oh my gosh!” Tentatively, she reaches for the stick.

It  _ feels  _ like a stick. It  _ looks  _ like a stick.

“This is a stick,” Rachel says in awe. Tossing it from hand to hand, she laughs. “That snail is a stick now! Hazel, this is... _wow_.”

Hazel laughs at the older girl's reaction. “I make things look like other things. Or maybe I make things other things.” She shrugs, “I don’t know how it works.”

Rachel smiles at her. “This is amazing. And you have so much control over it, too. That’s so impressive.”

Hazel’s head ducks down shyly, her curls bounce. “Thank you.”

Rachel turns to Frank, raising an eyebrow. “What about you? What do you do?”

Frank smiles. “I’m a shapeshifter. Like, right now, I’m an inch shorter.”

Rachel looks him up and down, nodding her head in an impressed manner. “That’s cool! Can you turn into animals?”   


Scratching the back of his neck, he makes a so-so motion with his hand. “I’ve turned into an iguana before but it took me three hours to figure out how to switch back. I try to avoid it.”

“I respect that,” Rachel smiles.

It’s a strange discussion, and an even stranger walk back to school. Rachel, Frank, and Hazel play a game where they count how many cop cars run past them and how many sirens they hear. Something in the back of Rachel's mind tells her how abnormal that is, how abnormal  _ she  _ is.

She’s a fourteen year old girl who can manipulate the flow of time. Her parents are underlings for the biggest crime boss in the world and owners of a crime network in New York.  Last year, she embarked on a journey across the country with two _complete_ strangers to save people she didn’t even know, then she hid an invisible girl in her bedroom for a month. She knows kids who turn into animals, rewrite reality, control liquids, and control other people. On top of all that, she’s being trained by a notorious vigilante.

Deliriously, Rachel bursts into laughter.

After she wipes the tears from her eyes, she slings her arms around Frank and Hazel and grins.

“We literally live in a comic book,” Rachel laughs. “Have you ever thought of that? Like, it’s low-key traumatizing but...also, kind of cool?” 

Hazel thinks about it, then laughs with Rachel. Frank joins in with loud, boisterous fits.

They’re a crazy sight. A girl with her arms around two other kids, all of them laughing their heads off in the parking lot in front of school.

* * *

Right before they enter the school, Rachel senses someone watching her. 

She doesn’t turn around, she just smiles and tells Frank and Hazel to go on without her. When they move on, Rachel begins to walk to the back of the school, toward the baseball diamond. The back of the school is flat ground, there’s nowhere for them to hide, only open space. 

The person’s steps are quiet, but Rachel knows they’re there. If not for her powers, she would have been completely unaware.

Finally, she stops by the gate. Rachel spins around, not knowing what to expect, to see Leo gaping at her.

“Leo?!”

He’s wearing his army jacket and machine-grease stained jeans. Leo smiles sheepishly.

“Hey, Rachel.” He eyes her sweaty clothes and messy poof. “You look like you’ve run the mile.”

Rachel leans against the gate and folds her arms, ignoring his statement. “What’s up?” She asks coolly.

The young boy looks down and fidgets with the hem of his shirt. His fingers are blackened with charcoal and machine oil. “Jason and Piper lying to me, aren’t they?”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “About what?”

“You know what.”

Rachel averts his gaze. The wind is starting to pick up, slowly swaying the grass. “If you already know, then why are you asking me?”

Leo runs a hand through his hair nervously. The younger boy looks distressed, like he’s been thinking of this for a while.

“I need a favor,” he finally says. “And, well, it’s a pretty big favor.”

“What is it?” Rachel asks warily. “If it’s something illegal, I’m gonna have to report you.”

“It’s not  _ illegal _ .” Then, reconsidering the statement, he says, “Well, not really. How illegal is vigilantism?”

Rachel blinks as she processes his words. Almost instantly, what Leo wants starts to dawn on her.

“ _No_.”

She begins to walk off briskly, hoping to shake him off. 

“Rachel, wait-”

“Leo,” she stops abruptly and pivots to face him. “I am not about to combat train you! I’m barely trained myself!”

“You said that you’ve been training for two years!”

“Are you stalking me?!” She shrieks. Exasperated, she throws her hands into the air and walks toward the school.

“I am  _ not _ ,” he scoffs. “It’s just that Jason doesn’t know what being quiet means and I woke up when he was getting ready at three _freakin_ ’ AM. So I followed him to that weird dance studio then-”

“Shhhh!” Rachel hisses. “You can’t just announce that kind of stuff! People could die!”

“You mean Atalanta, right?” Leo raises an eyebrow. At Rachel’s weary expression, he grins and pumps his fist. “I knew it!”

“Can you shut up,” Rachel grumbles. She grabs his arm, drags him behind a nearby tree, and points a finger in his face. He goes cross eyed staring at it.

“One,” she begins to list. “You cannot tell  _ anybody  _ about this.”

“Got it.”

“Two,” she continues, “why don’t you just ask Jason and Piper?”

Leo rolls his eyes then, and Rachel can see a flash of hurt behind his mask of nonchalance. “Because neither of  _ them  _ know how to fight. And they’d just tell me I can’t do it.”

“Ask Hylla.”

“She’d turn me out, you already know that.”

Rachel stares at him for a second. He has something to prove, she can tell. Leo speaks like someone who’s been ignored their entire life, and he talks like someone who’s sick of it.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Rachel mumbles, squeezing her eyes shut. “But, I’ll do it. I’ll train you.”

Leo whoops for joy and dances around like a jester. Rachel can’t help but grin.

“We’ll start tomorrow,” she says. “I don’t know how, cause I have training with Hylla every day and night, but we’ll figure it out.”

Leo nods and holds out a hand. When Rachel clasps it, his lips curl into a mischievous grin.

“It’s a deal.”


	6. I Have My Coming Of Age Moment In The Middle Of A Knife Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the title explains everything <3

After a week, Percy’s resolve is beginning to crumble.

Hylla knows that he doesn’t want to be trained, but she had still slipped the address for the location in his backpack three days ago.

At one AM, Percy stares blankly at the piece of paper, not knowing what to do.

They would already be on their second day of training, he’d be late. What if Hylla doesn’t want him to come anymore? What if he’s not welcome?

Percy hasn’t exactly been the nicest person. His mind wanders to Rachel again. He desperately wishes he hadn’t said that to her. He wishes he could pluck up the courage and apologize.  Every time he sees her at the pool, or the climbing wall, or lunch, he freezes up. Percy’s mind is screaming the words, but his mouth stays clamped shut.

It’s almost as if Rachel knows this. She looks at him a lot, her eyes catch his. They invite him into conversations of reconciliation, but he always looks away first.

The young boy checks the clock. Twenty minutes have passed. His roommate, Frank, is still sleeping. Frank is really nice and a year younger than Percy. He always wakes Percy up when he accidentally sleeps in (something that happens way too often). 

Percy also remembers Frank from the steel mill. A living, breathing reminder of the two weeks he just wants to forget snores less than six feet away.

And he’s considering continuing. Percy is considering being trained, never letting those weeks go. 

If Percy accepts Hylla’s offer, he’ll never be able to go back. If he chooses to hone his abilities, learn to fight, and wage war on crime with seven other unlucky kids, he’s giving up his only chance at normalcy.

Percy thinks of his mom. How much will it break her heart if he chooses a life of danger? How many tears will she shed knowing her son is purposefully putting himself in danger? 

Plus, after everything, Percy isn’t sure if he can be a hero.

His mind travels to the day they were broken out of the steel mill. When Gaea’s agents had kicked down the door and surrounded them. He remembers the way his blood boiled in his veins, when a fog had overtaken his vision. 

Suddenly, he’s not in his room. He’s floating five inches off a cold, gray floor and he’s squeezing his fist. A scientist holds a bullet to his head, his breath quickens, he doesn’t know what to do. The floor opens into an ugly gash and engulfs the scientist. Percy can’t hear their scream, but he can  _ feel _ the moment their feet get sucked into the ground. He  _ knows  _ when they’re not there. He knows when the bullet sounds, he knows when time stops. He knows—

Percy wrestles for control over his mind. His chest is heaving and his eyes are screwed shut. He opens them quickly, just to make sure he’s not back in that steel mill, to make sure he’s not hurting anybody.

His dorm room is normal. Frank is snoring, the lights are off. Yellowed light from the streetlamps slips through the blinds, and the water on his bedside table is floating out of the glass.

Percy’s eyes snap back to his desk. The lukewarm water is hovering three feet in the air, clear orbs of liquid are suspended as if on puppet strings. He blinks, and the stream falls back into the glass with a splash.

He can’t think like this. Not in this room, not in this school, and  _ especially  _ not with Frank snoring like a beluga whale with a cold.

Quietly, Percy wears a zip-up sweatshirt on top of his t-shirt. The weather is warm enough for basketball shorts and sneakers. He grabs his wrist guards and his skateboard out from beneath his bed, quietly opens the door, and slips out.

* * *

New Rome at night is terrifying.

The police station shuts down at eleven-thirty, which gives the criminals free reign over the city. Once the station closes, the pretty mask worn by the city falls.

Men wearing dark clothes and sharp smiles hang in alleys. Every abandoned house turns on the lights, chatter and smoke leaking out of them. A woman takes a drag from a cigarette on a fire escape above him. Someone screams in their apartment. Percy skates past a drug deal, the money and a bag of blue pills slip between slick fingers.

For a fourteen year old boy, Percy is observant. His powers help, giving him enhanced senses. It’s because of these senses, Percy hears someone running before they crash into him.

“Please help me!” A small boy sobs. He grasps the material of Percy’s sweatshirt, desperation clinging to his form. His brown eyes are full of tears, and his eyes dart behind him. “Please, please, I just-”

Percy looks behind him to see a man with a switchblade stalking toward them. The smaller boy begins to cry again, and someone pointedly turns away.

“Get behind me,” Percy tells the child, kicking his skateboard into his right hand.

The man sees Percy blocking his way and flicks out the blade. It winks silver in the night, sinister and sneaky.  “C’mon kid,” the man growls. “This ain’t any of your business.”

The way he talks reminds him of Gabe, Percy realizes. He subconsciously makes sure the child is still holding on to him. When he says nothing, the man charges at him.

He wastes no time. He slashes at Percy, not bad enough to kill, but to cause a little gash in his arm. Hissing, Percy hefts his skateboard and recklessly swings at him. The man makes fake moves, smirking and dodging Percy’s every move. 

It’s not until people above them begin to cheer that Percy realizes he’s being herded into an alley. 

The man soaks in the applause, the switch from practicality to performance showing in his moves. He prolongs the fight, slashing at Percy when he gets bored, and prancing around him. Percy barely feels the blood dripping down his arms as he fights back.

“Run,” he whispers to the little kid who’s still quivering behind him. The child does as he’s told, and his pursuer is too busy with Percy to follow. 

When Percy's back hits the wall, the man brings up a fist and smacks Percy into the concrete. A round of cheers goes up from the fire escapes. Percy tastes blood in his mouth. A kick to his diaphragm sends Percy into a coughing fit, sprays of blood fly out of his mouth. Gravel digs into his cheek and part of him wants to lie there forever.

But,  _ somehow _ , his limbs are still strong. Although his lungs ache, they breathe. Though his head hurts, it screams with adrenaline and energy and the sound of water beneath him. 

So Percy digs his fingers into the alley ground. His limbs don’t shake when he pulls himself up. Slowly, he wipes a trail of blood from the side of his mouth and smiles.

_ Somehow _ , Percy smiles.

When the lid of the fire hydrant flies off, the water surrounds Percy. It’s cool and misty and it sprays his wounds. His view of the man fighting him is obscured through rushing bands of water. The man with the knife begins to back away in horror as the young boy raises his hands to the midnight sky and sends a river of water toward him at lightning speed.

It’s something straight out of a comic book, and Percy feels a little bit like a superhero.

* * *

Years later, Rachel will tell him he had looked like the manifestation of her worst nightmares.

Percy drags himself back to school around an hour later. His phone is soaked, so he can’t check the time. His clothes are completely drenched and his lungs throb while arms sting with knife cuts. He’s injured and sleep deprived, but he’s happy.

His entire body feels like it’s on  _ fire _ , but in a good way. Percy smiles at himself. Can anything be on fire in a good way? 

Water drips into his eyes as he opens the doors to the school quietly. The traditional clock on the opposite wall of the doors is incredibly difficult to read with his dyslexia, so he doesn’t try. 

When he opens the door to the dorm, Frank is still sleeping. His snoring is the same as it was before Percy had left the dorm. Frank is still the same, but Percy definitely isn’t.

His mind drifts to the little boy. He hopes he’s okay, that he ran somewhere safe. Percy wishes he had caught his name. 

“Shit,” Percy curses. They don’t have first aid supplies in their dorm, and his arms are starting to burn. When the side of his bed brushes his abdomen, he has to stifle a scream. He looks down and sees a long gash running horizontally on his stomach.

So, that’s it.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he fumbles with his phone. He can sense the water in the thing. It might be the blood loss, but a crazy idea pops into his head. Hoping to whatever saint his grandma had believed in, Percy places a hand on the charging side and pulls the water to him.

Like a magnet to metal, it sloshes out. Every last drop of water inside his phone pours out and onto Percy’s lap. 

Biting his lip to keep himself from screaming, Percy reaches over to the desk in between him and Frank’s beds to charge it.

Now, where to go.

The first person Percy thinks of is Rachel. She knows first aid, he had seen the first aid kit in her room when he had visited Annabeth last year.  Part of him knows he shouldn’t. Percy still has to apologize to her properly, and this situation is a little bit unfair because they still aren’t speaking.

He doesn’t exactly have any other option, though, because the blood is dyeing his sweatshirt red and staring at it makes him feel nauseous.  So Percy gets up, grits his teeth, and hobbles to room 405 in the girl’s dorms.


	7. Reconciliation But One Of Them Is Bleeding Out

Rachel shouldn’t even be awake.

There’s something about combat training that makes her body clock shake her awake and force her to pace the room anxiously.

Rachel is in the middle of said anxious pacing when a soft knock is heard at her and Piper’s door. It’s probably Ms. Redder, the kind hearted teacher acting in  _ loco parentis _ for the girls of New Rome Academy.

When she opens the door, Rachel does not expect Percy Jackson. She  _ especially  _ does not expect a soaking wet Percy Jackson with a patch of dark red on his abdomen slumped against the door.

“ _Heeeey_ , _Rachel_.” He smiles sheepishly. Rachel stares at him wide-eyed for a second. Frozen in shock, Rachel stares at the boy who hasn’t talked to her in a week, the boy who is literally soaked in his own blood. Then, before she can gape any longer, she jumps into action.

“Oh my word,” Rachel whispers. The redhead places her arms around his shoulders and helps him walk in, a difficult task for the shorter girl. Rachel lies him down on her bed and scrambles for her first aid kit.

Piper is still sleeping. Snoring, in fact.

Percy’s green eyes are blurry in the dark. Rachel can see his hands stained rusty red and pieces of gravel stuck in his hair.

What did he  _ do _ ? Part of her burns with curiosity while the other part is only concerned for his well being.

Rachel opens the large red bag and sits beside him. Percy opens his bottle-green eyes and looks up at her. He has the audacity to smile.

“Hi, Rachel,” he says hoarsely. “I’m really sorry for what I said that day. It was wrong and you didn’t deserve that. I-”

“Stop,” Rachel puts a finger on his lips. “We can...we can talk about that later. You know, when you aren’t literally  _ bleeding out _ on my bed.”

Ignoring the heat rushing to her cheeks, she unzips his hoodie and pulls up his t-shirt. A long, horizontal gash bleeds. The cut is clean and sharp, the work of a blade. 

Again: _ what did Percy Jackson do? _

Rachel cleans out the wound dutifully, focusing on her task and not the flurry of feelings in her gut. The wound isn’t deep, thankfully, so she won’t have to stitch him up.   


“Good news,” she mumbles to him, and herself. “You won’t need stitches. It’s not deep.”

“That’s nice,” Percy says distractedly. He’s staring at her.

Rachel props him up against her headboard and begins to wrap the wound carefully.  _ Tight, but not too tight _ . Apollo, a street guy who had aided her combat lessons back in New York, talks in her head. 

The smaller cuts on his arms are easier. Rachel still has to wrap them, but they don’t freak her out as much. Those ones read more as “kindergartner gone crazy” than “assassination attempt”

When she finishes, Rachel stares at her friend. She’s trying to figure out how to ask, but she doesn’t want to come off as demanding.

She stares at him for a couple seconds again before thinking “screw it”. Percy comes into her room in the middle of the night, barely able to stand on his own feet, bleeding all over his clothes. Rachel is  _ allowed  _ to be demanding.

“What happened?’ She asks softly, to not wake Piper. “And, like, the truth, please? I’d really love to not have to throttle it out of you.”

Percy grins. “I got in a fight.”

“You look like you just crawled out of the Pacific Ocean,” Rachel deadpans.

“I’m getting to that part,” he says impatiently. “I needed to clear my head, so I went out for a little. I was skateboarding down the sidewalk when a little kid ran up to me. Someone was chasing him with a knife. I told him to get behind me then-”

Rachel snorts. “Then you got beaten up.”

“Then I got beaten up,” Percy agrees. His face is all somber lines, but his eyes appear to glitter with excitement. “But I won.”

“You  _ what?! _ ”

Percy laughs quietly at Rachel’s shocked expression. Looking her up and down, he smirks. 

“Try not to act so surprised next time.”

“Please try and be less smug,” Rachel softly flicks his nose. “You’re bleeding on my bed.”

“You’ve said that, like, three times.”

With an eye roll and a smile that betrays her, Rachel nods for him to continue. “How did you win?”

Percy is silent for a moment. His eyes unfocus as they stare blankly into space. Rachel frowns for a second, then he blinks and smiles at her.

“I used my powers.”

The urge to kick him off her bed is incredibly strong at the moment. Rachel’s jaw drops for what seems like the millionth time that night.

“Shut up!”

“You first,” Percy laughs. “You’re gonna wake up Piper.”

“I thought you hated your powers!” Rachel picks with the hem of her blanket as she avoids his eyes. “I kind of thought you hated  _ me _ .”

They fall silent. The only noise in the room is the sound of Piper’s snores and the ticking of the clock on the wall. Occasionally, a car races by. 

“Rachel,” Percy taps her knee and looks at her intently. “I could never hate you.”

When she smiles, Percy smiles back. And it feels almost normal.

* * *

Rachel sneaks into the dance studio at twelve-thirty PM.

Black leggings and a grey t-shirt make up her training clothes. Her gym bag thrown over her shoulder, Rachel pushes open the window she had left unlocked thirty minutes ago and crawls into the studio.

The studio is dark, but Rachel doesn’t dare turn on a light. Using her memories, the young girl finds the door leading to the basement and feels her way down. Finally, on the third step, she sees the mirrored wall.

The weapons are in the same place they were half-an-hour ago. The mirrors reflect the shadows and the lines of the basement. Rachel reaches for a staff, puts it back, then opts for an oak escrima stick. After all, they’ll be doing hand-to-hand.

Rachel busies herself with wrapping her knuckles and placing padding around the kali sticks. In her head, she goes over everything she’s learned in the last two years. Rachel makes faces in the mirror to entertain herself as she waits for Leo. She practices strikes and blows with the escrima sticks on air.

The young girl is so caught up in her imaginary enemy, she almost knocks Leo’s head off when he taps her shoulder.

Rachel screams and Leo screams back from his fetal position on the floor. He glares at her over his skinny arms. Rachel blankly notes that after three months, he won’t be looking so scrawny.

“What the heck, Rachel?!” Leo demands. “You almost killed me with those things!”

“No, I didn’t!”

“You were about to play Whack-A-Mole with my _head_!”

Rachel rolls her eyes and extends an arm to Leo. With ease, she pulls him up. 

“Well?” Leo stares at her intently, as if he’s expecting something dramatic to happen. Rachel silently notes that he’s the same height as her, five foot four. “What are you gonna teach me first?”

Suddenly, Leo jumps into a playful (and impractical) move straight out of a karate movie. Very seriously, he smirks at her and gestures her forward.

“I’ll go easy on you if you want,” he teases. With a raised eyebrow and a smirk, Rachel makes a swift, sweeping move in between his ankles. Leo tumbles to the ground, moaning something about death.

“First, we’re going to learn proper form,” Rachel laughs. “That’s why it was so easy to push you down, your form is weak.”

They get to work. Rachel stands in front of him on the navy blue mats and demonstrates how to equally distribute his weight. Patiently, she teaches Leo the best ways to switch footing and strike fast.

“Oh!” Rachel slaps her forehead. “I forgot! We need to wrap your fists.”

“Why?” Leo asks as he follows her to the bench. Warm street lights stream through the uncovered window and onto Leo and Rachel laps. The other girl grabs his hand and a roll of white hand wraps. Leo’s thankful for the darkness that covers his blush.

“If you want to adequately ruin your knuckles by punching someone in the face bare-knuckled, be my guest,” Rachel looks at him with a raised eyebrow. “But the padding offers a barrier between your very sensitive bones and the very hard thing you’re punching.” Sarcastically, she bats her eyelashes. “But I, personally, would love to see you take the other option.”

Leo rolls his eyes at her condescending tone and watches her carefully, memorizing the process in his mind. Rachel’s nimble fingers move slowly enough for him to note as she explains it verbally.

“Okay,” Rachel says brightly, patting his newly-wrapped knuckle. “Do the next one yourself.”

The two lapse into silence, the only words exchanged are cuss words from Leo and soft bouts of laughter from Rachel.

Wrapping Leo’s knuckles eats twenty minutes of their time, so, when she finishes, Rachel gets up calmly.

“Can I punch you?”

Leo jumps back, surprise makes his brown eyes widen and his palms rise. “I knew you hated me but I didn't think I was  _ that  _ bad.”

Rachel grins even wider and makes a sharp move toward him. Leo smacks her hand away with a frown.

“Rachel-”

Again, she lunges for him, this time to his right. Leo dodges to the left, pure reflex protects him from Rachel’s sharp blows and quick attacks. 

After the redhead had herded him around the room, Leo realizes her strategy. His back hits the wall as he grins.

“You’re training me,” he muses. Along the way, Rachel had picked up her kali sticks, one pointed at Leo’s chin. “You’re trying to train my instincts or some crap.”

Rachel smiles brightly and drops the weapon. “Took you long enough, Leo. I was starting to think I started this for nothing for nothing.”

Leo watches Rachel cross the room to her water bottle and bag. He’s vaguely aware of the way his lungs heave at the intense training Rachel has put him through. His shirt is soaked through with sweat.

Rachel is perfectly at ease, looking like she’s gone for a nice stroll.

“Rachel.”

The older girl turns at his call. He can see her hazel-green eyes from his spot.

With a smile, Leo nods at her. “Thank you.”

“For training you?” Rachel asks, leaning against the wall and cocking her head with a smile. “Because it’s only slightly inconvenient.”

Leo rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his sweaty hair. “Well, yeah. But also...thanks for not underestimating me.”


	8. Alexa, Play Mama Who Bore Me, Original Broadway Cast Recording Of-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if you have a life, you won't understand the title reference

On the twentieth day of their training, Hazel walks into the studio basement to meet absolute chaos.

At this point, the effects of the vigorous physical activity have started to show in control over the kids’ powers.

Percy weaves water from their bottles through the air in an impressive display. Annabeth smiles at Reyna and Rachel, blinking in and out of sight around various spots in the room. Jason lies on his back five feet in the air, grinning at Piper. Bianca di Angelo sits in the middle of a veil of darkness in the corner, calling out teasing insults to Percy across the room.

Something brushes Hazel’s ankle. With a frown, she bends down to see a lizard crawling by her foot, its gummy teeth are exposed in a freakishly human smile.   


“Frank?” Hazel gasps and reaches down to pick the lizard up. “I thought you said you don’t turn into animals!”

Lizard-Frank appears to smile again. He butts his head in the direction of Hylla, where she stands in the corner and watches the kids play around in pride.

His message is clear:  _ She helped me _ .

Over the past month, Hazel has warmed up to Hylla. The woman can come off as strict, like when she makes them wake up at three AM every morning, even on weekends. Or when she forces them to stay back and climb the ropes in the gym until their enhanced strength can’t save them from fatigue. 

Despite these moments, Hylla listens. She listens, she understands, and Hylla always knows how to help. Like two weeks ago, when Hazel had been nervous about transforming the punching bag, an object bigger than her, for the first time.

* * *

_ “What’s wrong?” Hylla had said, pulling the small girl to a corner in the room and demanding the other kids to practice.  _

_ Hazel hadn’t met her eyes, trying to mask the way her heart had been beating. “Well...little things, like sticks, are easy. I’ve never used my powers on anything so big before…” _

_ “What are you scared of, Hazel?” Hylla had asked, her brown eyes gazing at her intently. “Hurting someone, hurting yourself?” _

I’m scared of not being able to do it _ , Hazel had thought. Shamefully, her eyes went to the other side of the room. Percy had already been showing mastery over his powers, so had Annabeth, Jason, Piper, and, well, everyone else.  _

_ In that moment, Hylla had understood. Slowly, she pulled Hazel into a firm embrace. She smelled like fruity Bath-and-Body-Works lotion. Pulling back, Hylla smiled at Hazel and squeezed her arms encouragingly. _

_ “You’ve got this Hazel,” she said. “How are you ever gonna succeed if you never try?” _

* * *

There are few adults Hazel trusts.

Her mother, amazing as she was, had never made the list. Marie Levesque had been indulgent, playful, and wholly irresponsible. Hazel remembers days where she had done homework with her friend Sammy, his house had always been much quieter than hers. A constant stream of strangers were always walking in and out of those thin purple curtains in her New Orleans townhouse.

Marie had seemed to like the strangers more than Hazel did. What the young girl will never know about her mother’s pain is how much she resembles her deceased father. His cool-dark skin and soft shaped lips are traits Hazel had inherited from him. The rest of Hazel, from her almond shaped eyes to her short stature, is all from Marie.

Lizard-Frank seems to sense Hazel’s spiral, so he slaps her wrist with his tail.

_ Talk to someone _ , he seems to insist. His tail points to Nico, who is speaking to seemingly nobody.

Hazel waves at him from her spot, and he waves back, then goes back to his conversation.

“He must be talking to one of the ghosts,” Hazel reasons. “Must be important.”

Frank the Lizard nods. Hazel checks the time on the cracked screen of her phone. They have two minutes till Hylla will inevitably start another rigorous training session. Today is their first day of sparring.

So Hazel decides to make it count.

* * *

Percy and Rachel circle each other. 

Hazel is still a bit tired from her sparring session with Rachel, the most experienced student in the class. Everyone else is in a similar state of defeat. Hylla had wanted them to study how someone who’s been training for a long time fights. She watches as Percy flexes his wrapped hand once and Rachel raises an eyebrow. 

The only protective gear given to them were helmets and foot braces. Hylla had instructed them to use what they had learned over the course of the almost one-month and defend themselves or attack.

“You scared, water boy?” Rachel taunts. 

“Not a chance,” he shoots back. It’s worth noting how he still doesn’t make a move.

Rachel smirks and wipes a drop of sweat of her freckled forehead. Percy is the last student she needs to spar. 

“You can take the offensive if it gives you a little confidence boost,” she smirks. “I could even go easy on you.”

Percy rolls his eyes and Hylla makes an exasperated noise from the sidelines.

“Percy, you’re on offensive,” she calls out. Then, to Reyna, she whispers, “They’re taking too long.”

Percy strikes, quick as lightning. His fist shoots out toward Rachel’s face, but she anticipates the blow and dodges. Hazel’s breath catches as she watches them spar. Rachel teases him with cheeky side steps and simple blocks. Crouching low and doing a sweeping move, Rachel knocks Percy to the floor. Percy doesn’t go down without a fight, though, because, at the last second, he’s dragging her to the ground with him.

“Argh!” 

Rachel hits the floor and scrambles to pin Percy down. He jumps to his feet, enhanced strength and speed work in his favor. His form is perfect as his leg shoots out in a kick, but she dodges anyway. For a good couple seconds, Percy has the upper hand. 

Perfectly executed and well-timed strikes are performed by Percy, but the rapid-fire attacks are wearing him out. Once the opportunity arises, Rachel pounces. 

With a pivot, Rachel’s kick meets him in the shoulder. Percy stumbles back. Before he can defend himself, Rachel’s fists and feet fly out in a flurry. Lapsing back, Hazel can see her smirk from here.

“You’ll have to try a  _ little  _ harder than that,” Rachel says in a sing-song voice. 

Hazel turns to her left to see Nico eating a granola bar in awe. Annabeth and Reyna are squeezing each other’s hands in anticipation, Annabeth’s cheeks bright red. Piper cheers loudly every time one of them gets a blow in, eliciting many glares from Hylla. Hazel notes the way her hand is clasped with Jason’s before turning her attention back to the fight.

They dance around each other, weak blows and blocks bounce back and forth between them. Rachel is holding back.

“Don’t play with your food!” Hylla calls out to Rachel. “If you can end the fight, _end it_!”

So that’s what Rachel does. Right as Percy’s fist shoots out, Rachel is grabbing his wrist and twisting him into a headlock. Breathing heavily, Percy taps her arm twice. Concession.

Rachel immediately releases him and pulls him into a jovial hug. Hazel can see the guilt on her expression from here. She pulls back to say something to Percy quietly, he smiles at her in response and pulls her into another hug.

Piper is cheering, Frank and Nico clap good-naturedly. Jason hands Percy and Rachel towels and claps Percy on the back.

Something about the situation leaves Hazel unable to breathe. Just watching Rachel and Percy had sent a rush of adrenaline through her. Being  _ up there _ with Rachel had felt even better.

Having to think on the spot and in the moment makes Hazel uncomfortable. Even at the age of eleven, Hazel knows she wants things to be planned and enjoyable. Her mother had been unpredictable, wild, even, and Hazel doesn’t know if she wants to be.

But the feeling is undeniable. Even when Hylla dismisses them and she goes to breakfast with Nico, Frank, and Bianca, Hazel is still thinking about sparring. She still relives the moment, blow to blow and jumping from thought to thought.

Lying awake in the middle of the night with her roommate Sadie snoring in her ear, Hazel realizes that she actually  _ likes  _ learning to fight. Everything about it, from the gear to the form to the little mechanics, makes electricity jolt through Hazel’s veins.

It’s invigorating, and maybe Hazel needs a little bit of excitement in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> piper is fully embracing her title of entity of chaos and she's an icon for it


	9. Error- Friends Not Found

One month of training with Rachel left Leo with a new attitude.

It flares up when Jason sneaks out at three AM every day thinking that he’s asleep. It flares up during the day, when Jason and Piper lie about their soreness and limping with lame excuses like “I feel off the climbing wall”

His new attitude, a simmering anger that boils underneath her heart, especially flares up when he’s learning how to fight with Rachel. Under the cover of darkness, with only the faded glow of a streetlamp as a light source, Leo learns how to do everything Jason and Piper are doing.

_ I’m not bitter _ , Leo tells himself. Why would he be bitter? He had only caught Piper pulling Jason into a kiss, suddenly confident now that they’ve all turned fourteen. After  _ weeks  _ of exclusion at this  _ stupid  _ school, he had only caught his best friends in a liplock.

Leo had only attended New Rome Academy so their trio wouldn’t be broken up again. He had submitted the boarding school application and gotten in for Jason and Piper. He’s  _ attending  _ for Jason and Piper. He had run himself ragged for two weeks trying to find them, for what? For them to get caught up in each other and forget about him? For them lie to him about their vigilante training? 

For them to forget everything they’ve been through together?

But part of Leo can see why they’ve been slowly pushing him out. He hadn’t been in the steel mill with them. He hadn’t experienced the things they had, and he can’t begin to understand. He doesn’t even have powers, that’s something that’s been driving them apart for months.

However mature the conclusion is, it doesn’t halt the bubbling anger in his chest or the embarrassing sting in his eyes. Leo wishes things were fair. A twisted part of him wishes he had gotten kidnapped too.

His vow from eighth grade graduation comes back to him in full force as he walks the halls of New Rome Academy. He had promised himself that one day, he would be able to jump a building without Jason and Piper. Leo will be just as good as them at fighting if he can’t best them in more.

Last training session, Rachel had filled Leo in on everything. Everything from the men that run America behind the scenes to Hylla’s grand plan, using their powers to take Luke Castellan, Krios, and Kronos down.

Leo wants to join them.

“Dude,” Rachel had scoffed during their training session yesterday and blocked his blow. She raised an eyebrow. “You are  _ not  _ about to become a vigilante.”

“You’re training me, aren’t you?” Using her teachings, Leo put himself on the offensive and attacked. Switching from long to middle range, he attacked her sides. “Why did you think I asked you? So I could become Jackie Chan’s stunt double?”

Rachel blocked his attacks and struck. Leo swiftly blocked the blow, the sound of wood on wood had reverberated in the dark studio.

“First of all,” Rachel smiles, “He’s  _ retired _ .”

“Tomato-tomahto,” Leo murmurs, pivoting to unsuccessfully catch her ankles.

“Secondly, if you have something to prove,” Rachel struck him in the side, “then I’ll train you. But-” another smack, but Leo blocks it “-I won’t put you in danger.”

That had ended the discussion. Rachel had dropped her staff and crossed the room to get her water bottle. Leo had been left with a million counterpoints and really sore arms.

A couple of minutes later, Rachel had looked at Leo with clear hazel-green eyes. They were shining with pity. Leo has always hated pity.

“Leo, don’t endanger yourself to piss off your friends,” she had whispered. “Believe me, having to lie to you kills them.”

Even now, hours later, Leo still doesn’t believe her.

If it really “kills them”, he wouldn’t have caught Piper kissing Jason after the climbing wall today. And maybe they would have at least had the decency to follow him when he ran out.

Maybe Leo should have anticipated this. The inevitable moment when he got pushed out of the group. Ever since sixth grade, Leo has expected it to happen.

Piper and Jason are perfect. They’re the perfect kids, good natured and generally nice. Leo is the exact opposite. Of course they would get together, it only makes sense. How could he ever-

“ _ Leo! _ ”

Piper’s voice calls behind him, her sneakers squeak on the linoleum hallway floors as she runs toward him. He doesn’t turn around, he doesn’t even acknowledge her existence.

“Leo, wait!”

She reaches him in a second. Rachel had told him that the kids who were experimented on have enhanced strength and speed. 

Piper grabs his shoulder and forces him to look her in the eye. “Leo, let me explain.”

Jason is right behind her, looking sheepish, as if they had been caught skipping class and not betraying their friendship.

“Leave me alone, McLean,” Leo tries to shake her off. Piper’s iron grip keeps him in place. 

“Piper,” he says firmly. “Let. Go.”

She does what he asks but crosses her arms stubbornly. Piper looks at him with disdain, a look so...so  _ superior _ , it makes Leo want to scream.

“Why are you so mad that I kissed Jason?” She urges. “ _I_ _ like him _ . That doesn’t change our friendship!”

“Yes, it does.”

Leo’s voice echoes in the empty hallway. His eyes dart between Jason and Piper, at the space between their bodies. Lingering on Jason.

“It does,” he repeats himself, quieter. “And while you guys were stuck in your honeymoon phase, you haven’t even noticed that we’re drifting apart.”

“We’re not-”

“We  _ are _ .” 

Leo feels like his resolve is cooling into something harder, stronger. He raises his chin. The same expression on Piper’s face a moment ago, he plasters on his. “We always have been. Ever since that steel mill.”

Jason’s blue eyes dart between them. Reaching out, he says, “Guys, this doesn’t have to be a fight.”

“This isn’t a fight.” Leo flinches away from Jason and tries to erase the hurt that crosses the other boy’s face from his mind. “It never was. This is the first honest discussion we’ve ever had.”

“That’s not true—”

“You denying it just proves my point!” Leo shouts. “Why can’t you _see it_? Ever since we got to this stupid school, you’ve just been pushing me away!”

His words hit Piper like a punch to the gut. He sees it in the way her shoulders sag and she takes a step back. When she looks at Leo, her eyes are flashing in determination. Jason’s eyes dart between his best friends, unsure of which side to take.

“That’s what  _ you  _ think.” She says, her voice barely a whisper. “But it’s not  _ true _ . I haven’t been pushing you away, at least, not on purpose. A lot has been happening--”

Jason catches her eye in the moment. Their eyes seem to have a full conversation—one Leo isn’t welcome in. 

Leo knows what they’re thinking. He knows that Piper was incredibly close to telling him about their training. He knows that Jason, the dutiful bastard, had stopped her. Leo knows that he’ll take that secret to his grave if he has to.

When Jason turns back to Leo, the smaller boy is already walking away.

“Leo, wait!”

Leo is meters away by the time his voice reaches him. Something stops him in his tracks, something like pain and spite. The ugly thing curling in his chest makes him turn around and call something down the hall.

“Have fun at your training,” Leo says. “I hope your dumb secret was worth it.”

He leaves their gaping jaws behind him, along with any doubts in his mind about his goal.

Leo  _ will  _ become a vigilante. Even if it kills him, he’ll prove to Jason and Piper that he deserves to be among them. He’ll earn it, all by himself.

* * *

Wires and circuit boards. Months of hard work and skipped workshops. Trips to the principal’s office for causing explosions in the tech lab. Hiding out in his room, celebrating every breakthrough alone. Sneaking out of school at night, looking for trouble. Testing his newest creation. Avoiding his friends. That’s the rest of Leo’s summer. 

The New Rome Academy summer camp succeeded in its goal: to form friendships and bonds. Going to a boarding school forces a sort of comradery among the students, Leo’s noticed. When you’re all forced to live in a massive building together in the world’s crime capital, a brotherhood of sorts forms. As a result, by the end of the summer, Jason and Piper are the talk of the freshman class. The  _ cutest couple _ .

_ Barf _ .

Jason keeps making attempts to apologize. The blond boy never wants a fight to be prolonged, something Leo reluctantly respects. Sometimes, Leo feels Jason’s eyes on him from across their dorm. Staring longingly at his turned back.

Piper has been giving Leo his space, but she’s been trying to nonverbally make up for it. She “makes up for it” by anonymously dropping bags of M&M’s, new circuitry, and, once, ten bucks.

It doesn’t work, but Leo still eats the M&M’s while he works on his project.

Leo rushes his dinner down his throat, excited to see where his work has gotten him. Festus should be done by now, he’s had a full twenty-four hours of charging time. 

As he heads to his dorm room, Leo tries to prepare himself for the inevitable. Festus should be technologically impossible. A partially sentient AI that scans every aspect of the human body, has access to GPS, analyzes buildings in seconds, and has multiple different robotic bodies for it to take?

It’s ambitious. It’s stupid. It’s something straight out of  _ Iron Man _ or  _ Big Hero Six _ . 

It’s exactly the sort of thing Leo would tackle.

The emotionally intelligent part of Leo’s brain tells him that he only built Festus out of loneliness. He misses Jason and Piper, so he literally replaced them with a robot.  Luckily, the emotionally intelligent part of his brain only constitutes 2% of it.

Leo can’t get into his room quickly enough. He locks the door behind him and dives under his bed to look for the box he keeps the first Festus prototype, where he’s charging in the outlet hidden down there.

Opening the box, there’s a robotic model of a bronze dragon bigger than Leo’s head. With help from Rachel, Leo had gotten quality parts for it. The only thing she had asked in return was for Leo to call her the minute it works.

“Here goes nothing,” Leo breathes. 

The air feels thick with anticipation as Leo's fingers find the panel on the side of Festus’ head. He pries it open, his mind is already inventing better ways to turn the machine on. Finding a small red button, Leo takes a deep breath and presses it.

It takes a couple seconds. There’s a whir, then a soft whooshing sound as the fan kicks in. Leo holds his breath, waiting for Festus’ dark eyes to glow. 

The fan keeps running.

“Of course,” Leo mumbles, mentally kicking himself. Why did he ever think it would work? The very idea is idiotic, something out of a fantasy. Getting up, Leo rears his leg back to kick the thing under his bed.

Then Festus’ eyes glow red and the dragon looks up.

Leo’s jaw drops as he crouches on the floor. Fascination spins in his heart as Festus’ eyes follow him. Leo cocks his head to the side, and the mechanical dragon does the same.

“Oh my gosh,” he whispers. Hysterical laughter bubbles out of his throat. He could kiss his invention right now.

Leo runs a hand through his hair. Disbelief forms in his chest every time he glances at the bronze dragon pacing on the floor. “Oh my  _ GOSH! _ ”

“Hello!”

The sound of the dragon’s voice scares Leo to the other side of his room. Of course, he had programmed it to speak, but it still takes him by surprise. Leo had partially expected himself to fail.

“Um…” He raises an eyebrow. “ _ Heeeyy _ .”

The dragon walks closer, smooth and unmechanical. Almost like a real dragon. Leo sees the red dot in its left eye focus on him.

“Leo Valdez,” a male, robotic voice declares. “Age: Fourteen. Date of Birth: July 7, 2006. Place of Birth: Houston, Texas. Known Family: Esperanza Valdez. Status: Decea-”

“Alright, you can  _ stop  _ now.” Leo’s voice cracks as he says it. He doesn’t like to think about his mom, and he doesn’t need his own creation talking about her. The dragon looks at him curiously.

“I am sensing distress,” Festus says matter-of-factly. “You have not been getting eight to ten hours of sleep, the recommended amount for a growing boy.”

Leo rolls his eyes, still in shock that he’s having a conversation with a robot. “Nobody even  _ gets  _ eight hours of sleep anymore. Not in this city, that’s for sure.”

“Actually, approximately fifty-five percent of youth today reported that they get eight to-”

“Alright, I get it!”

Leo begins to pace the room, worriedly running his hands through his hair. What does he do next? Obviously, he needs to hide Festus. Nobody but Rachel can know about Festus. At first, Festus had started out as a cute companion to help Leo with robotics projects. Now, with his training and his new ambition to be a vigilante too, Leo can’t help but wonder.

Leo had spent the most time working out Festus’ GPS system and fine tuning his access to floor-plans and the internet. His scanners had been the hardest part, and he had had to explain everything to Rachel to get her to order them for him. Luckily, with the way Festus had examined him, they seem to be in perfect shape.

When Leo looks at the floor, Festus is gone. Frowning, he starts to search under his bed.

“Festus?”

The dragon isn’t underneath his bed. He hits his head on a wooden beam as he retracts himself from the cramped space. Leo’s starting to regret making him partially-sentient.

“Festus, buddy,” Leo looks around the floor. “Where are you?” 

He gets up with a sigh. As he runs his hands through his hair for the millionth time, Leo can feel his blood pressure spiking. 

“Festus,” Leo calls out again. He starts to turn around. “Come on, you’ve been active for, like five min-”

His sentence is cut off by a girlish scream. Leo slaps a hand over his mouth as Festus’ nose taps his midair. 

The bronze dragon is utilizing its wings. That explains why Leo never found it on the floor, it was flying around the room.

“Your heart rate has risen by ten percent,” Festus says cheerily. Leo’s shock morphs into a chilly glare at the machine.

“Well, duh,” he scoffs. “You just scared the crap out of me.”

Festus flies smoothly around the room, his fine motor skills are excellent. Leo watches in fascination as the bronze dragon takes note of everything in the room, clicking when the scan is complete.

That’s  _ his  _ bronze dragon, he realizes. His hard work actually...it actually  _ means  _ something.

Leo’s first instinct is to run to Piper and Jason, and he’s already pulling up their contacts when he remembers. He’s been ignoring them all summer and school starts tomorrow.

_ School starts tomorrow _ .

Leo exits out of their contacts and pulls up Rachel’s. They have a lot of work to do, and it’s only going to get harder with school.


	10. C Is For Child Endangerment

At 2 AM, Percy doesn’t need a reminder to get up.

Frank is already prepared for training, his bow and arrow are slung over his shoulders. 

Weeks ago, they were told they could choose any weapon  _ except  _ a gun. Not only is it illegal, Hylla had told them that guns are for cowards and fools.

“They require no  _ strategy _ , no  _ skill _ .” Hylla had held up a shotgun for them all to see. “You can use these when you’ve mastered hand-to-hand and every weapon in the book. When I’m one hundred percent confident that you can handle yourself without one, you’ll get it.”

Hylla had also shown them her grapple hook. Percy remembers how much he wanted to have one in that moment. The black steel, the leather on the handle, the feeling of flying through the air...

His desire to be a vigilante scares him a bit, if Percy’s being honest.

Percy doesn’t have a weapon, not yet. Hylla had encouraged them to train with every weapon along with picking a focus, but Percy didn’t choose. Rachel, Frank, and Annabeth had chosen, though. Rachel chose a long staff that could be broken into two kali sticks. She had also said something about compensation and funding that made Hylla’s eyes go wide. Annabeth had chosen throwing knives. 

As he gets ready, Percy starts to think about his summer, and the school year that starts tomorrow. His sophomore year of high school, a big feat, apparently. Six schools in six years, maybe Percy can stay in New Rome Academy. His mom had expressed the same belief and hope.

A couple weeks ago, it had been his fifteenth birthday. He had been allowed to fly out to New York to see his mom for a week, and Sally had hugged him tightly at the airport.

He had missed her so much. He misses her so much. Percy wishes he could talk to his mom about everything happening. He wishes that he could lean on her the way he used to, when he was a little kid. Most of all, Percy wishes he doesn’t have to lie to her.

The soft memories of blue food, spam emojis from Rachel, and his mom’s hugs were tainted by Percy’s future choices. 

“What’s wrong,” Sally had asked him in the car. Percy had been staring at the back of her head, his head swimming with the millions of lies he’ll have to tell her about camp. About New Rome. About training. She already knows about his powers, but when she hears about how he’s using them… It would break her heart to hear, and it would break his to lie.

But, while forcing a smile, Percy had told the first of many.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine, Mom.”

* * *

He’s walking past the closed Burger King with Frank when Annabeth and Rachel catch up to him.

“Hey,” Percy smiles at them, ever bright despite the morning hour. “What’s up?”

Frank waves goodbye at him to walk to the studio with Nico, Hazel, and Bianca on the other side of the road. Percy’s been talking to Frank for a couple of months, he’s really cool.

The streetlamps wash eerie yellow light on the trio as they fast walk to the studio and occasionally race. Nobody bothers them, nobody watches. People mainly mind their own business in New Rome, so it’s not much different from Manhattan. 

Percy’s eyes catch details of the city in the night, ones that he’s seen millions of times. There’s the zoom of a car, and a line of smoke can be seen in the distant buildings. The stores they pass have heavy padlocks and barred windows, Percy even sees the telltale thin line of a trap near the ice-cream parlor. 

Larry always sets it, Percy’s weekend trips to the parlor resulted in long conversations with the small business owner. Three years ago, burglars had almost gotten almost every business in the area, resulting in the popularization of traps. Atalanta had stopped them.

Larry is also a  _ huge  _ fan of Atalanta, and Percy still remembers his uncontainable smile when he heard that.

Percy remembers the No-Man’s-Land he had experienced from months ago, in the heart of New Rome. When the city should be asleep, it only just starts waking up. His keen ears pick up the heavy bass of a song from a dark car. A couple fights in an apartment with the lights still on a couple miles away. He absorbs everything in the dark, whether he wants to or not.

Rachel playfully pokes him in the side and gives him a soft smile. She’s the last to turn fifteen in their group, and the shortest of the three of them. She evens it out by being the best fighter, though, with her two year head start.

Percy likes Rachel. Well, not like that,  _ never  _ like that. He just likes it when they spar and she kicks his butt but gives him pointers anyway. He likes it when she sneaks into the boys’ dorms and smuggles candy for them to eat while she makes him talk about his feelings. Percy likes it when Rachel smiles at him across the room, referencing one of a million inside jokes nobody but them will ever be able to recall.

(He promises he doesn’t like her that way)

“Get your head out of the clouds,” Rachel reaches up to flick his cheek. “We’ll probably need all our focus today.”

Annabeth gives Rachel a rare, and shocking, smile. She elbows Rachel in the side and keeps near to them.

Percy notices how Annabeth’s started to smile more. Usually these soft grins are reserved for Reyna, Hylla’s little sister and the second best fighter in the class. The first is Rachel, at least in Percy’s opinion. 

When Percy had talked to her about it yesterday, Annabeth had turned bright red and told him to shut up. With a grin, Percy had connected the dots from the top of the climbing wall.

Annabeth, prickly and reserved  _ Annabeth _ , has a crush on  _ Reyna _ .

“Rachel,” Annabeth’s voice splits between a shriek and a tease. “You’re not supposed to tell him!”

“Tell me what?” Percy’s eyes dart between the two girls. Their mouths clamp shut. Rachel’s lip quivers as she tries to keep herself from laughing.

“Come on,” he whines. “ _ Tell meee _ .”

Percy spends the rest of the walk trying (and failing) to get Annabeth and Rachel to spill the beans. The old dance studio waits for them, deceptively small and unassuming, unaware that it’s holding the biggest secret ever.

Annabeth enters first, not waiting for Rachel or Percy or anybody. Rachel stays behind, shyly smiling at Percy as they linger outside the door.

“You ready?” Her lips quirk in a smile. Again, Percy has to admire the navy of the night and the gold lights that outline Rachel’s face. The streetlight they stand under seems to cling to her curled eyelashes and set her auburn hair ablaze.

Percy can’t help but smile at her. He  _ wants  _ to smile at her. 

“Always.”

* * *

For three minutes, Hylla stares at them.

Sweat rolls down Percy’s back from the previous sparring session as he stands under her scrutiny. Hylla’s long, dark hair is pulled into a high ponytail. Not for the first time, she’s dressed in the all-black protective get-up of Atalanta. The almost-full-face mask shows white eyes and the outline of her mouth before meeting again in a chin strap. Hylla holds a baton in her hand, the electric side is turned away from her but her thumb brushes over the button.

“Today,” she finally begins, “we’re trying something different.”

Percy exchanges a look with Rachel from their opposite ends of the line up. Hylla disappears into a back room and comes back pulling a clothes rack. There are ten black jumpsuit-like clothes hanging on the rack. They’re all different sizes. The suits are bulky but mostly body conforming, appearing to be padded with Kevlar.

Ten sleek helmets sit on top of the rack and ten heavy-duty boots sit below. Piper frowns at them, Percy is feeling similar emotions.

“Hylla,” she says, speaking for them all. “What..what are we doing tonight?”

The mask of Hylla’s face still lets them see the smirk curling her lips. The older woman grabs an armored jumpsuit off the rack and holds it in front of Piper.

“The best training I could ever give you is experience,” she says cooly. Hylla raises an eyebrow at the young girl. “And I’m  _ really  _ hoping I got these measurements right.”

* * *

The boy in the mirror is not Percy.

The boy in the mirror is stronger, more confident in his padded armor and steel-toed boots. This boy has two sticks placed in magnetic sockets on his back. The boy in the mirror is holding a dark helmet over his uniform (no,  _ costume _ . No,  _ suit— _ ) and a mirrored glass over his eyes so he can see. At least the helmet isn’t like those biker helmets, this one is rounded and straight down. 

This is not Percy. Percy is a little boy, only fifteen, with large boots to fill. He’s hiding in the bathroom, away from the large city of New Rome, away from the tall buildings and the people who need saving. He’s a child playing dress-up, a kid whose responsibilities are dawning on him.

Padded gloves that reach to his wrist cover Percy’s hands. A grappling hook is on his side, ready to be put into use. Hylla’s grappling hook lessons from the top of an abandoned building are coming back to him, along with the feeling of wanting to throw up.

Percy should probably get out of the bathroom, he’s freaking out for nothing and everybody might be waiting for him.

Reluctantly, he switches his helmet from under his left armpit to his right and pushes open the door. Right outside, with expectant grey eyes, Annabeth is waiting for him. She’s dressed in a similar get up, but her boot laces are tied straight across rather criss-cross.

Percy shudders. You only notice these things when you’ve spent months being trained by a detective.

“Percy,” Annabeth looks him up and down. The shock is evident in her raised blonde eyebrows and wide eyes. “You look…”

Percy gestures to her and starts to smile. “I know. You look the same way."

Her hair is in a low ponytail, tucked underneath the high collar of their suits. Percy notes that her entire left arm is invisible. She’s nervous.

They fall into silence. Percy sees Nico, Frank, and Piper ready. Percy has talked to Frank and Piper before, but not Nico. He doesn’t know why, he’s definitely friends with Bianca, who frequently teams up with Rachel to tease Percy relentlessly.

Annabeth always knows when Percy has a plan. With a smile, she squeezes his shoulder encouragingly. 

“I’m gonna go talk to Reyna,” she says. “Nico’s really sweet, I think you’d be nice friends.”

With those words as his shield, Percy approaches the little boy. 

Hylla said that Hazel and Nico need to train for longer until they can start patrolling. Nico is in his usual graphic t-shirt and jeans, a book open in his lap as he sits on the bench. Occasionally, he looks at nobody in particular with an annoyed expression.

“Can you tell this lady to shut up,” Nico says, not looking up from his book. “She won’t stop pointing at you.”

Startled, Percy looks around for the apparition Nico is referring to then he remembers the young boy’s powers. Nico can talk to the dead. He  _ says  _ that he’s raised ghosts before, but most of them take it with a pinch of salt.

Nico stares at him with inquiring black eyes. “You can’t see her, but she keeps pointing at you and telling me you look like her daughter.”

“What’s her daughter's name?” Percy asks warily.

A beat passes, Nico turns his head to the side to listen. “Sally.”

_ Of course _ . Percy’s grandmother had died before he was born, so she had never gotten to meet him. His mother had described her as a kind but insistent woman with a sharp memory. His mom’s friends tell him he takes after his Hawaiian father more, usually when Sally is gone and can’t hear. Percy  _ has  _ had a couple of people say he looks like his mother, though.

Percy sits next to him on the bench and balances his helmet on his knee. Opting to ignore the possible presence of his dead abuela, he glances at Nico. He’s gone back to his book, his shaggy black hair falls into his eyes and Nico repeatedly brushes it behind his ear.

“How did you get your powers?” Percy tries to make conversation. “I was kind of busy being experimented on, but I didn’t see you...at the mill.”

Percy’s figured out an antidote to his trouble with talking about the steel mill. If he turns it into a joke, it hurts less. At least, not at first.

Nico gives him a weird look. “Me and Bianca were there.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” he nods. Brushes a long piece of hair behind his ear again. Avoids Percy’s unintentionally intense gaze. “We, um, we got there  _ months  _ before Gaea came in with you guys...she used to run tests on us...make us fight the scientists.” Nico shudders, and Percy stops him for his own good.

“Hey,” he puts a tentative hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to talk about it. I don’t even like thinking about it.”

Nico gives him a grateful look, and stars seem to shine in his black eyes as he smiles at Percy.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I just...I want to use these powers for something good. Hylla gave us the opportunity to do that. I...I owe her so much.”

“Me too,” Percy agrees. His eyes sweep the room, at the kids coming out of the bathroom, in awe of their new clothes and lifestyle. “We all do.”

* * *

It takes them a “shameful” amount of time to get ready, according to Hylla.

Rachel arrives out of the bathroom last, her curly red hair braided into messy cornrows. She walks differently from the rest of them in the slightly uncomfortable suit. Rachel’s steps are confident, her mouth is quirked in a small smile. She carries herself like she’s been wearing Kevlar suits for years.

Percy has to blink three times when she approaches him. Laughing softly, he gestures to her.

“Dang, Rachel,” he smiles. “It’s almost like you were born for this.”

When she grins, Percy knows that she agrees.

* * *

After Hylla gives the basic instructions (act as lookouts. If they see anything, call her. Stay on the rooftops.), they’re given almost free reign. Apparently, she put trackers in their suits.

“It’s for your own safety,” Atalanta had said on a rooftop in the city. Her ponytail had flowed in the wind, strips of black against the clear night. Then she pressed a hand to her armor-clad chest. Percy couldn’t see her brown eyes, but he had imagined them shining with warmth and pride. 

“I’m so proud of you all,” she had said. “You’ve come a long way. Now, go have some fun and talk to me or comms if you see anything.”

With that, she jumped off the roof and grapple hooked in the direction of someone’s scream.

The environment is slightly warm, but not warm enough that Percy sweats in his suit. The dark nighttime is dotted by yellow street lamps, ground level stars against an urban sky.

The kids all exchange awkward looks. Rachel stands in the middle, looking from left to right at the confused teenagers. She steps forward at the same time Reyna does.

“Oh, I’m sorry-”

“My bad-”

The two girls stare at each other. They look identical in the simple uniforms, the only difference being Reyna is a bit taller. Rachel steps back kindly.

“We’ll split into teams,” Reyna declares. “We all know how to use our grapple hooks, so we’ll take the east, west, north, and south sides of the city. You know how to jump onto rooftops, right? Tuck and roll?”

They nodded, and Reyna made a satisfied sound. “Good. There are eight of us, so split in groups of two. I’ll go with Annabeth.”

Percy wishes he could see Rachel’s grin as he walks over to her corner of the rooftop, but it’s only black helmet. He thumbs the handle of his grapple hook and holds out his arms in a hopefully confident expression.

“You ready?” He asks, his voice muffled through the helmet. She nods.

“I really wish I could take this off,” she mumbles. “If Hylla ever lets us design our own costumes, I’m choosing a mask.”

“But concussions,” Percy argues, stepping to the ledge and gauging the distance. 

“Can’t be a vigilante if you don’t look good,” Rachel shoots back. Percy laughs as he imagines her playful wink from under the helmet. 

Even if Rachel doesn’t have any of the additional enhanced perks of the serum, Percy isn’t worried about her. 

Rachel looks at him and, again, Percy wants to throw their stupid helmets in a fire. Silently, she takes multiple steps back and jumps off the roof. 

It seems like slo-mo when she’s in the middle of the air. Her legs tuck in a jump, Rachel whoops in joy. Percy’s breath catches for a split second from the rooftop behind her but she’s caught some air. She reaches for the building, tucks, and rolls.

Of course she sticks the landing.

When his lungs decide to breathe again, Percy breaks into a cheer. Rachel screams something about following her, and, soon, Percy’s right behind her.

To their right, Jason and Piper are shakily flying from roof to roof. Frank and Bianca are way ahead of them, going to patrol their corner. Reyna and Annabeth aren’t in sight.

Percy wishes that he could feel the wind in his hair as he runs, jumps to the next building. He wishes he could see Rachel’s wide grin, one dimple set into brown freckled skin. He wishes the night wasn’t so tinted through his helmet.

But he still has his ears. He can hear Rachel laughing and making fun of him for being a slowpoke as they go to Broadside. He can hear the chatter in apartment buildings and and the rhythmic beat of a hip-hop song.

“I’m basically powerless and I’m _still_ faster than you!” Rachel teases, completely unaware or uncaring that it’s, like, four in the morning in the world’s most crime infested city.

Something catches Percy’s eye below the building. Skidding to a stop before he jumps to another building, he calls out to Rachel to stop.

“I think I see something,” he says. Rachel jumps the distance between the buildings separating them with ease, then she’s crossing over to see what he means. Crouching low, the two observe a group of people with guns and knives chattering. Their backs are turned to the building Rachel and Percy lay low on. They all wear black ski masks and dark clothes. Percy picks up a discussion about “moving up”, “Krios,” and “money”, followed by a tall guy hitting him and telling him to shut up.

Rachel’s helmet blankly turns to him at the same time he does.

“You think we should contact Atalanta?” Rachel asks, already putting a hand on her staff and preparing to jump.

Percy grins, knowing she can’t see him and knowing they’re going to get into major trouble with Hylla along with endangering their lives.

“We  _ should _ ,” he says. Adrenaline crackles to life in his veins, familiar excitement from the memory of a fight. He can sense the pipes running in people’s houses, a nearby fire hydrant. His powers hum in response to his environment, waiting to be set free. He puts a hand on a baton Hylla had shoved into his hands.

When they jump off the building, they both stick the landing. “I’ll give you a high five for that later,” Rachel says softly. 

The guys haven’t suspected anything, so they hang in the shadows of the alley they’ve dropped into. Someone’s cat plays with the lid of a garbage can, explicit graffiti stares Percy in the face.

Percy counts a group of five. Hylla’s analytical skills have rubbed off on him or, according to her, he’s always had them. They’re all fairly young. Their hands on the guns are casual and loose, their stances are comfortable. They haven’t been trained to expect anything like he has, they’re probably new to the world of crime. They’re most likely on their way to collect a debt, an easy job in the underworld.

“C’mon,” Percy nods in their direction. “They’re rookies, and they’re not ready for a fight.”

If Rachel was anybody else, she would have hesitated, and maybe asked to call Hylla. She doesn’t, though, because she’s just as eager for something to happen as he is. Dropping a couple of junior gangsters at a police station can’t be very important to Hylla’s grand plan.

So, silently, they strike. 

The loose hands don’t work in their favor, they don’t even have time to shoot when Percy and Rachel attack. A flurry of fists and the dodging of knives, then there are five guns on the floor, three people unconscious, and Rachel’s staff and boot pressed into the tall guy’s chest. 

Percy’s still disarming the knife from the person he's fighting. Desperately, Percy searches for something in his favor. A couple feet away, there’s a puddle of water that a scrawny cat had been lapping up. Grinning, Percy reaches out to it, bends it into a thin stream, and sends it up his opponent’s nose. Their hands come up to their nose instantly, and Percy has time to knock them out. He turns his attention back to Rachel and her captive while playing lookout.

“Who  _ are  _ you?” The tall guy screams at Rachel’s helmet. “You’re not Atalanta!”

Rachel snarls, out of character and a little bit funny. “And you're lucky for that.”

Percy stifles a snicker.

“What do you know about Krios’ inner circle,” Rachel demands. 

“Nothing! Boss just told us to collect a debt!” 

When she pressed her staff a little harder, he reconsiders his answer.

“Fine! Fine!” His hands wrap around the point hopelessly. “We’re not that high up yet, we just do what the Boss tells us to do. Tonight we were s’posed to get some cash from this lady.”

Rachel considers which question she wants to ask. “The boss being…”

When he stays quiet, she’s pressing the staff into his chest again threateningly.

“ _He’ll kill me!_ ” He sobs. “If I tell you, he’ll kill me!”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “Better him than  _ me _ .”

Percy grins behind his helmet. She’s  _ definitely  _ practiced this in the mirror before.

“Nakamura!” He’s crying out loud. “His name is Nakamura, just please let me go! Please!”

She does as she’s asked, stepping down politely off his chest. A split second later, Rachel hits him in the chin and he’s out cold.

She dusts off her hands and moves to Percy’s spot by the wall. Curiously, they examine the unconscious bodies together.

“We did that?” She asks.

A beat. “Yeah.” Percy is a little bit in awe. 

Even though they can’t see each others’ faces, they both know the other is smiling.


	11. not meant to be

Rachel is tired, sore, and feeling the best she ever has in months.

The first day of school is an affair. Even if all she wants to do is sleep, her body clock wakes her up at six AM, forcing her to get ready. 

Hylla’s words from last night come back to her in the shower. ("You two did great," she had said, "but next time follow orders.") While she brushes her teeth, thoughts of justice and revenge and  _ one step closer _ come in exhilarating waves.

Her parents don’t call during breakfast, not like the other kids’ parents do. She could have gone back to New York after camp ended, but she didn’t want to nor did her parents invite her. They haven’t spoken to her since the day they put Rachel on a plane to California. 

Rachel doesn’t mind. In fact, she’s grateful as she eats a blueberry muffin and platonically plays footsie with Percy under the table while Annabeth info dumps. Apparently, none of them have P.E. Somehow, Hylla had gotten them excused. Instead of basking in the free period like a normal person, Annabeth had taken another elective: Ancient History.

“Ancient History?” Percy cries. “Annabeth, you could have gone to the ice cream place or the cafe with me and Rachel! Now you’re gonna be stuck in class!”

Annabeth sulks and tugs on a blond curl. “I  _ know _ . The only reason why I even took it is because…”

A devilish smile appears on Rachel’s face, a matching one on Percy’s. They both know exactly why Annabeth’s taking Ancient History, a certain dark-haired girl comes to mind.

“It couldn’t be…” Rachel takes a bite out of her muffin and glances over the cafeteria to see Reyna sitting with Jason and Piper.

Percy follows her eyes to Reyna’s spot and Annabeth catches on instantly.

“Guys!” She tugs on Rachel’s sleeve, warning blaring through her grey eyes. “Do. Not. Do. It.”

Rachel locks eyes with Percy, and the sudden understanding that they  _ must  _ do this passes between them.

“Hey, Reyna!”

“I’m going to kill you!”

Reyna’s ponytail turns to reveal her questioning face staring at them. They all freeze from their table in the center. Annabeth is half-standing and reaching her hands to Percy’s mouth. Rachel is calmly eating a blueberry muffin. Percy is smiling.

She waves and Annabeth waves tentatively back.

“ _ Aaawww _ ,” Rachel teases the blonde as she hides her head in her arms. “Don’t worry, Beth, we all make mistakes for the sake of a crush.”

“Oh, really?” Annabeth snarls and shows her face. “What have you done, then?”

Right on cue, Rachel’s eyes land on Leo form in the back. He keeps sneaking longing glances at Jason’s table and eating a sandwich. He’s wearing the familiar military jacket and machine grease stained t-shirt and jeans. 

_ I agreed to train a guy out of spite _ , Rachel thinks bitterly.

She shrugs at Annabeth and packs up the trash for her muffin. “Not  _ once  _ have I embarrassed myself for a crush,” she says smugly. “That’s a  _ you  _ thing.”

Annabeth tosses her wrapper at Rachel right as the bell rings.

* * *

Leo catches up to her in the hallway right before sixth period. He’s wearing his gym uniform, something Rachel is lucky enough not to have. She’s on her way to the dance studio, where Hylla had instructed them to meet during sixth period gym.

“Rachel!” He tugs on her sleeve. “Where are you going?”

Rachel eyes him carefully. He’s coming from the locker room. “I’m going to the studio. You know that.”

Leo runs a hand through his hair, stalls for time. “I just...um...I finished Festus! If—If you wanted to see him, I know you sneak into the boys’ dorms all the time so like...if you want to, you can.”

Rachel grins at him and his nerves. Ruffling his hair, she teases him. “Of course I’m coming to meet your robot. Who’s gonna kidnap him if  _ I’m  _ not there?”

Leo smiles, sly and devoid of the previous dorkiness. “Nobody’s gonna be kidnapping him, but that’s a nice try.”

Rachel sticks her tongue out at him and makes her way to the front office to show her excused note, signed by Hylla herself.

“I’ll let you think that,” she calls over her shoulder. Then she’s pushing open the door and walking away, leaving Leo smiling by the door and hopelessly late for class.

* * *

“Who even assigns homework on the first day?” Rachel grumbles from her spot on Jason’s empty bed. “That’s inhumane. It  _ should  _ be a felony.”

Leo snickers from his desk. “What is it?”

“Geometry.” She makes a face and scoots over for Leo to sit next to him. “Can Festus solve it?”

“I could solve it,” Leo scoffs and Rachel rolls her eyes, “but he can. Hold up.”

Leo says the robot’s name, and it comes flying out of the closet. Rachel grins at the small bronze dragon as he flies over and lands on top of her head.

“Dude,” she laughs and reaches up to touch him. “This is so cool! What’s controlling it?”

“Festus is a ‘he’,” Leo corrects. 

With a bow of her head, Rachel fakes remorse. “My bad, sorry. What’s controlling him?”

“Nothing,” Leo shrugs. “He’s kind of sentient.”

“Shut up!”

Leo laughs at her comically wide eyes and reaches up for Festus. “He moves on his own and, like, thinks on his own.”

Rachel’s silent for a stunned moment. “Oh my gosh.”

“What?”

“You’re freaking  _ Iron Man _ .”

They blink at each other for a single beat before bursting into laughter. Rachel can’t stop laughing as Festus flies around their head, spouting various diagnostics and statistics. The room is small, a boarding school dorm, but, somehow, Leo’s achieved the impossible in here.

Rachel turns to her side to see Leo staring at her. His brown eyes are unreadable in the light from his desk lamp. He inches closer to her.

“Hi,” she breathes.

“Hi.” His lips quirk into a smile, half confident, half shy. “Can I..”

And Leo’s her friend. Rachel knows this as fact. He tells funny jokes and he’s witty and kind. Rachel enjoys his company and their training sessions at midnight. She likes the secrets he keeps and the way he learns quickly. She likes that life is moving fast and he seems to be the one of few who can keep up.

Does she like him that way, though? Rachel doesn’t know why she wouldn’t, she doesn’t get why she  _ can’t _ . But maybe...maybe she can. Maybe she will because Leo’s her friend and he can keep up with her rants and weird humor and he’s  _ there _ .

He’s there like Percy is, but something is different. To Rachel, it shouldn’t matter too much.

So she closes the gap and presses their lips together, squeezing her eyes shut.

* * *

Leo  _ should  _ like Rachel.

It only makes sense. She’s been there for him, she’s done so much for him. She’s funny, smart, and she’s got a million secrets that Leo wants to know.

Rachel is just like him.

She doesn’t go easy on him or underestimate him, she believes that he can do what Jason (and Piper) can. Rachel is intriguing and she’s his  _ friend _ . She’s his friend like how Jason is his friend. Maybe different in some way, Leo doesn’t know.

There’s no good reason why he shouldn’t like her.

But when they kiss, it feels like kissing his  _ sister _ . It would feel like kissing  _ Piper _ . Whatever feeling he should get, the one that flutters in his stomach when he feels blue eyes on him in the middle of the night, it isn’t manifesting. It’s nothing. Pure, blank, frustrating nothing.

They pull away at the same time after a couple of seconds. Leo’s cheeks are bright red as he looks for anything else to focus on. Festus squirms in his grip and digs his talons into his palm. Leo rolls his eyes and lets the rebellion machine go.

“So…” Rachel drawls. “Um, that was…”

Leo meets her eyes and nods. They already know what the other is thinking, but Rachel blurts it out anyway.

“I don’t like you like that,” she says quickly. “I-I don’t think I  _ can _ . You’re my best friend.”

“Honestly…” Leo smiles at her. “Same for me. It’s just...it felt  _ wrong _ .”

“Right!” Rachel laughs and throws her hands to the air. “Goodness, it felt so wrong.”

He shifts to turn to her, speaking animatedly now that the air has cleared. “It was like I was making myself kiss you. I don’t  _ want  _ to kiss you, I want to do homework and make stupid jokes about Reynolds.”

“Same,” Rachel grins. “Let’s just...never speak about this again.”

“Deal.”

As they go back to playing around with Festus, Leo wonders how it would feel to kiss someone and like it. When he imagines someone’s face close to his and anticipation building in the room, he imagines a single pair of sky blue eyes. 


	12. Eyepatch Dude Knows How To Fight

When it all goes wrong, Hazel can’t say she’s surprised.

Hylla put her with Rachel and Percy for her very first patrol, the tenth one for the older kids. Bouncing in excitement, Hazel almost trips in her boots. Nico is on the other side of the room, babbling to Frank and Bianca in a similar state of excitement.

“Hi!” Hazel smiles brightly at Percy and Rachel, who exchange looks. “What are we doing tonight?”

Rachel sets down her helmet and takes Hazel’s from her hands. “Well, first, we’re braiding your hair. You’re gonna get a lot of tangles tomorrow and it’ll be flat if you don’t cornrow it, Hazel. Protective hairstyling isn’t an option, especially when you’re a vigilante.”

Heat rushes to Hazel’s cheeks as the older girl gets behind her and starts sectioning off her hair. Rachel is the only other black girl in their vigilante “class” with Hylla. Hazel’s hopes of impressing them with her prowess over her powers deflate as Rachel braids her hair. Like she’s some little kid.

Percy watches them with a small smile. Or, rather, he watches Rachel. Behind her, Rachel sticks her tongue at him.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t even do anything!” He protests.

In ten minutes, Rachel is clapping her shoulder and grinning. “Aaand, we’re done!”

Hazel's scalp feels exposed without all her hair to cover it up. Her head feels cold. She nods at Rachel gratefully.

“Thank you,” she says. Rachel waves her off.

“It’s nothing,” she answers kindly. 

Rachel and Percy explain their plans as they march outside, toward the heart of New Rome. They grapple hook to the top of an apartment building. Hazel has to laugh as the wire carries her up at lightning speed. The feeling is exhilarating. She wonders how it would feel if she took the helmet off.

“Atalanta specifically told us  _ not  _ to investigate Nakamura,” Rachel explains, jumping to the other building. 

“So, that’s what we’re gonna do,” Percy says simply. Rachel gives him a fist bump.

Hazel keeps up with them as they jump over rooftops toward a nondescript brick building. Her ears pick up the faint sound of music, but the lights are off. Rachel’s helmet turns to her.

“Nakamura is the name of that one gang leaders’ name, right?” Hazel asks, crouching low and letting energy and illusion ripple in her hands.

“Yeah,” Percy says. “A couple days ago we found out that he’s on Krios’ side in the whole gang thing. This is one of the places associated with him.”

“How’d you figure that out?” Hazel feels like she’s asking too many questions, but Percy keeps answering.

“Silver card in the pocket of one of his gangsters,” he shrugs. “That’s Krios’ mark according to Hylla, just like the gold card is for Luke.”

“What about Kronos?”

Rachel tenses from her spot beside Percy. Her words come out angrily and aggressive, so much so, it almost scares Hazel.

“He doesn’t leave a mark,” she says lowly. “He’s smarter than them. He kills and doesn’t leave a trace.”

Both Percy and Hazel turn to stare at her. Rachel’s helmet looks away.

“Sorry,” she mutters.

Silently, the three watch the house for any sign of life. Rachel leaves their spot to stop the mugging of a pregnant woman and comes back after twenty minutes, having dragged the man to the police station.

Grumbling, Rachel pokes Percy’s shoulder. “I could have used some help,” she mumbles. 

Hazel watches as he turns to her. “You had it.”

“Doesn’t mean I couldn’t have used some help!”

Hazel tunes them out and watches a man walk out of the house to his car, his back to them. He’s average height, pale skinned, with black hair. He wears regular, solid-colored clothing. 

“Guys,” she points a single finger at him. “Who’s he?”

The two’s attention snaps to the guy below them. A repetitive sound goes off in his direction, and he takes out his phone and answers a call. When he takes out the phone, something falls out of his pocket.

A shiny golden card.

Before they can stop her, Rachel is on her feet and jumping to the next rooftop in the same direction as the car. Hazel blinks inside her helmet, suddenly it’s feeling stifling.

“Where’s she  _ going _ ,” Hazel hisses to Percy.

His voice comes out worried and hard. “I don’t know. Wait here.”

Then, in a blink, Percy is running in her direction and leaving Hazel on the roof. As much as she would like to scream cuss words at the sky and at her “partners” for ditching her, Hazel can’t. She needs to stick with Percy and Rachel, even if Rachel is determined to get them killed by chasing a random gang member.

Sighing, Hazel gets up, dusts herself off, and sprints in their direction. Next time, she’s patrolling with Frank, Bianca, and Nico.

.

Luke can be a pain in the ass.

As his right hand and current spy, Ethan knows this best. 

He’s all hard lines, quiet plans, and elaborate schemes. Luke’s most recent scheme? To send Ethan all the way to New Rome, a city that does  _ not  _ concern him, as a spy for the side of Krios.

New Rome at night is the perfect time for deals and raids. When the streets are deceptively quiet and the sky is dark, it’s harder to find the shadows. Ethan just doesn’t want to  _ be  _ here. The underworld isn’t in his line of sight, merely a means to an end. Ethan had joined up with Luke because he had promised him revenge on Kronos. Nowadays, though, Ethan can tell that the crime lord is keeping something from him.

Another nuisance are those people in the masks who are going around on patrol and helping the ultimate annoyance known as  _ Atalanta  _ fight crime. The worst part? They’re successful. Ten of Ethan’s men are sitting in jail thanks to them.

“You promised me revenge on  _ Kronos _ ,” Ethan grits out, a hand on the steering wheel as he drives to the location of a raid. For Krios, of all the people. The old man trusts him with his life after Ethan killed a couple people for him. His gun is in the back, black and inconspicuous against the dark interior of the car. 

“And you’ll get that,” Luke replies.

It takes all Ethan’s strength not to scream. “I can’t do that when I’m in the territory of fucking  _ Krios _ ! I should be in New York.”

“You’re exactly where you should be.” Luke’s voice is frustratingly even. Ethan can imagine the scar on his lip rippling into a sly smile. “Are you doubting me?”

“No,” Ethan huffs. “I just...why am I infiltrating Krios’ turf? You at least owe me that. I’m putting  _ my  _ neck on the line, and I’m gonna need some answers.”

Luke pauses.  _ Not out of surprise, probably to take a drink _ , Ethan thinks with an eye roll. 

“Fine,” Luke finally says, right as Ethan turns a corner. “But you might want to know something.”

“What,” Ethan bites out. _ I’ve had enough of your games, Luke _ .

“You have a couple  _ fans  _ trailing your car, Nakamura.” Luke cuts the call as smugly as he can, leaving Ethan to wonder how the hell he figured that out all the way in New York.

Ethan grabs his gun and looks out the window at the dark streets and darker buildings. Nothing.

Then something.

A quick flash of a dark figure on a roof, jumping off the building nearby and disappearing again.

“Hm.” Ethan gets out of the car and opts for the shotgun under his seat instead. Carefully, his eyes sweep the area.

“I know you’re there,” he calls out. He has a job to do, and if it’s those little brats he’s going to-

Someone walks out. A tall little girl wearing a flowery dress with brown eyes looks at him with wide eyes. There’s something strange about her blank expression and forced hunched posture. Cursing, Ethan lowers his gun. He’s not about to shoot a kid, no matter how weird she is.

“Why aren’t you at home?” He asks impatiently. “It’s dangerous here.”

The child cocks her head at him. Her eyes flicker behind him involuntarily. Ethan turns around just in time to dodge a staff to the face.

“Argh!” 

The figure wears one of the helmets of those rookie vigilantes. Growling, Ethan shoots and the person dodges the bullet. They flip to land on a trash can and pull a throwing star out of their pocket. Ethan dodges it and shoots again. This time, the bullet grazes their arm. 

When they lunge toward Ethan, he sidesteps and wrenches the staff out of their hand. In turn, the person disarms him and throws a punch at him. They’re lightning quick and hit him in his good eye. They’re shorter, and they use it to their favor. High kicks that catch him in the face, targeted blows to the diaphragm, quick attacks, and easy dodges; this person is trained... but Ethan is too.

Ethan grabs their leg mid kick and pushes forward. They’re on the floor in a second and scrambling to get up. They don’t have time, though, because Ethan’s boot is on the helmet, forcing them down and gradually adding pressure. He would shoot if he could, but his gun is on the other side of the street.

“Stop getting in my way,” he growls. The material of the helmet starts to bend, finally, but then someone’s hitting him with a baton and he hits the ground.

Blood runs down his nose as he rolls to the side and to his feet. The child in front of him is different. She has a helmet on over her dress, and she’s not wearing a dress anymore. She’s wearing a black, padded suit, same as the person he was just fighting.

It’s one of those damned vigilantes.

“How many of you are there?!” Ethan curses and grabs the weapon, twisting and putting them in a chokehold. Easy. Before his eyes, what Ethan thought was a tall child morphed into one of the figures in the masks. 

“If there are any more of you,” Ethan pants. “Come out now or I’ll snap your friend’s neck!”

It’s an easy demand, at least to Ethan it is. Of course, none of them will be walking out alive, but it’s fair. They’re making him late for one of Krios’ most important raids. But, no, he’s getting blasted in the back by another one, shorter than the other two.

“I think we should call Atalanta!” The shorter one cries out in a girlish voice. She scrambles to help her friends up and the three of them push close together. The air around her hands ripples with energy, Ethan almost believes he’s going crazy.

“No calling Atalanta!” The one who had just been under Ethan’s foot shouts. Her fists come up in a fighting stance. Slowly, Ethan inches toward his gun while they’re distracted.

“Why can’t we-”

She doesn’t get to answer her question because Ethan is firing shots at them again. They dive behind buildings and trash cans to escape the barrage. Ethan hopes they don’t call Atalanta, too.

Touching his finger to the earpiece in his ear, Ethan speaks to his comrades waiting for him.

“Guys,” he searches the area for the sight of the vigilantes carefully. “I’m gonna be a little bit late.”

“For what?!” Alabaster screeches. “This is  _ important _ , what the hell is holding you up?”

“Vigilantes.”

“Atalanta?”

Ethan rolls his eyes. “No, these ones travel in packs.”

A figure runs toward the building in the corner of Ethan’s eye. Calmly, he raises the gun and shoots, catching them in the leg. Their scream is loud, loud enough for him to hear through the thick helmet. Another scream follows hers, but Ethan doesn’t have the energy to bother to find the rest.

He might as well make an example.

Quickly, Ethan crosses the distance and points the gun at their heart. A zoom of energy passes by his head from his left. He doesn’t pay attention to that. Exhaling, his finger ghosts the trigger. If he can’t get them all, at least there’ll be one less roaming New Rome’s streets.

“You have been,” he catches his breath, “a  _ major  _ inconvenience. I hope it was worth it.”

If Ethan was to turn around at that moment, he would have seen. He would have escaped, and maybe gotten two. He doesn’t, though, so when the jolt of electricity hits him, he doesn’t even have time to think.

Leo sighs as he watches Ethan slump into the ground. Festus flies next to his ear, a wire of electricity hanging out of the robot dragon’s mouth. At least the taser works. 

* * *

Hazel doesn’t let go of Percy until she’s one-hundred percent sure Ethan is out.

The boy had almost lunged toward her and gotten himself killed when Rachel had been shot. Hazel had to assure him that Rachel will be fine because she was going to hit Ethan in the chest and knock him out. Simple plan, so he should just, like,  _ breathe _ .

It’s safe to say she had failed.

Hylla had screamed at her so much through comms, Hazel had wanted to take off her helmet. She couldn’t, though, for the sake of her secret identity. She did take off Rachel’s helmet, she had to. The redhead’s forehead beaded with sweat as the boy put pressure on the wound, guided by the robotic voice of a small bronze dragon.

Rachel seems to know him. She refuses to say his name, though, so Hazel won’t be taking off her helmet any time soon.

The guy with the eyepatch and gun is unconscious and lying in a nearby alley. Hazel and Percy had dragged him in there themselves.

Percy kneels next to her. His helmet is still on and he’s asking way too many questions. Rachel smiles at him despite the situation.

“I’m not dying,” she says lightheartedly. Hazel mumbles something underneath her breath about a false statement.

“I’m not!” Rachel protests. The boy (who half of his shirt is wrapped around her thigh) looks at her strangely.

“You  _ almost  _ did,” Percy says. “Why did you run off, anyway? Who knows how that could have ended?”

“I’m thinking it ended like this,” Rachel mutters, eliciting a glare from Percy. 

“Rachel, this is serious!” 

The boy with the bronze mechanical dragon gets up. His hands are stained red with blood. The dragon (who had informed them that his name is Festus and he is Here To Help) flies up with him. 

“Are they done yet?” He asks Hazel. Her eyes bounce between them as if she’s watching a ping-pong game.

“Never.”

After five more minutes of hushed whispering on Percy and Rachel’s part, he walks up to them and crosses his arms.

“Sorry to interrupt this,” he gestures at them, “but we need to go.”

Percy looks at him but his expression is hidden by the helmet. “Atalanta’s on her way.”

“We can’t wait for Atalanta,” Rachel interrupts. “It’s the middle of the night in New Rome. If someone else finds us…”

“So we’re just going to leave?” Hazel asks. Her voice wobbles slightly as the events from the night sink in. Her very first patrol and someone gets  _ shot _ . 

Percy opens his mouth to answer, but a shadow looms over their crouched figures. A voice speaks in his stead, shaking with anger.

“No,” the voice of Atalanta says. “You’ve screwed enough up.”


	13. Totally Screwed

Percy completely tunes out the bronze dragon talking in his ear on the way to the dance studio. Atalanta had taken the long way, the way nobody can follow, but she’s carrying Rachel bridal-style.

“This is nice,” Rachel jokes, then flinches at a wave of pain in her leg. Everybody seems to glare at her at the same time.

Atalanta is scary quiet. Percy had expected shouting and cursing and the brunt of Hylla’s rage, but she’s only quiet. 

Hazel marches in front of him, explaining everything to Atalanta in a wave of words. When she gets to the part with the fight, Percy sees Atalanta clench her fist.

The boy with the ski mask is quiet, but he fiddles with the buttons on his torn shirt, picks at his nails, and, occasionally, grabs his dragon. Percy recognizes him. His name is Leo and he’s friends with Rachel. (Contrary to popular belief, ski masks don’t mask identity as well as people think they do)

Thirty minutes later, they’re inside a makeshift infirmary in the studio. Hylla looks at Rachel, who has managed to stay conscious, and nods at Leo.

“Does he know?” She asks tiredly. Rachel nods her head. Hylla sighs and gives her an antibiotic.

“Take this,” she mutters. “You’re gonna need it.”

Percy, Leo, and Hazel stand by the door and routinely flinch when Rachel bites down a scream as Hylla takes out the bullet. Percy has to fight the feeling to surge forward when he looks at Rachel’s gritted teeth.

When Hylla finishes, she washes her hands and, finally, looks at all of them. Rachel’s eyes widen as she sits on the table, swinging her legs back and forth. Her eyes meet Percy’s, and they both know they’re about to  _ die  _ by Hylla’s hand.

“What,” Hylla says softly. “The. Hell. Were. You.  _ Thinking _ ?!”

Percy gulps. Hazel takes a step back. Leo cringes. 

Hylla spins around to face Rachel. Angers coats her every mannerism, the twitch in her eye, her clenched fist. Rachel doesn’t shrink back, but she bows her head.

“I’m sorry,” Rachel says softly. “I thought-”

“No,” Hylla interrupts. Her legs carry her across the room in a frustrated pace, her finger comes out to point at Rachel. “You didn’t  _ think _ , Rachel. You jumped into a fight you weren’t ready for, and for what? An assumption? I gave you  _ clear  _ instructions-”

“I know!” Rachel jumps off the table impulsively and hisses when her leg hits the floor. A spot of red seeps through the white bandages wrapped around her thigh. “I know,” she says, quieter. “It was...it was an  _ accident _ . I thought he was one of Castellan’s guys! I thought I could catch him or something!”

“That doesn’t change anything,” Hylla says evenly. “Solving cases isn’t about going off a feeling. You need evidence, you go off hunches when you’re looking for evidence, not a conclusion. And you need to  _ follow my orders _ .”

“I know-”

Hylla silences her with an icy glare. “Why?”

“What?” Rachel frowns, her eyebrows knit together. “Why, what?”

“Why did you run off?” Hylla asks her. “There’s something you’re not saying.”

Rachel’s eyes dart for help around the room. Without thinking, Percy steps forward.

“She’s not hiding anything,” he says to his mentor calmly. Then, he’s looking at Rachel intently, at her green eyes, one shining with a frustrated tear. “You’re not hiding anything.” 

The question mark is implied. The room seems to chill when Rachel’s eyes lower. Percy’s breath hitches at the same time Hylla’s eyes narrow.

Her words from their fight, so many months ago, come back to him. “ _ Stop acting like you know anything about me, _ ” she had said. “ _ I’m invested because I have to be _ .”

Questions from that time flood back to him, questions he had buried with the argument. Why does she have to be? Why is Rachel so interested in being a vigilante? Why is she so hell-bent on Hylla’s mission to take down Krios, Kronos, and Luke Castellan?

Things that Percy had previously ignored flash in his mind. When he had caught Rachel in her dorm with books on crime open in front of her and newspapers on Kronos, Krios, and the rise of Luke Castellan tacked on a wall, red lines drawn in between events. She had looked at him and, for a moment, it wasn’t Rachel looking at him. It was someone who was deeply and utterly  _ consumed  _ by an internal force.

_ When she freezes every time she hears Kronos’ name. She doesn’t talk about her parents. She trains so hard she falls to the ground in exhaustion sometimes. _

Percy is scared when he looks at her. He’s scared when he connects the dots and finds nothing. He’s scared  _ for  _ Rachel, he’s scared of whatever had driven her to risk her life for a faint hunch.

He’s struck by the sudden realization that he doesn’t  _ know  _ Rachel, not very much, not at all. He doesn’t know about her home life, just that she doesn’ like her parents. He doesn’t know what school she went to, he doesn’t know her background. He doesn’t know what drew her to Leo, Grover, and the steel mill.

Her tears are falling freely now as she looks at Hylla, a plea in her eyes.

“Please, Hylla,” she says. “I’m not—I’m not hiding anything that will hurt anybody.”

She’s telling the truth, but she never denied she’s hiding something. Defeated, Percy falls back and watches the edges of the atmosphere come loose. 

The door to the studio is opening upstairs, patrol must be over for everyone else. He doesn’t want their teammates to see her crying or Hylla getting mad. Percy forces himself to look at Leo and Hazel.

“Come on, guys,” he says quietly. “Let’s...let’s talk to the others.” Hazel nods eagerly, Leo cracks his knuckles nervously. 

Percy and Hazel go to the mirrored training room and start removing their outward armor to the simple black pants and black t-shirt. They carefully fold the clothes and put them in boxes, then hide them under loose floorboards. Exactly how Hylla taught them.

Leo (somehow) has a screwdriver, and is fiddling with his mechanical dragon on the bench. Nervous energy pours off him. Percy narrows his eyes.

“Wait,” Percy moves closer to him. “Don’t you hang out with Jason and Piper?”

Leo nods. “Yeah, so you can imagine why I’d be a little reluctant to be here right now.”

Percy sits next to him and ignores the loud chatter from upstairs. “You guys haven’t been speaking?”

“ _ Nope _ ,” the smaller boy tightens a bolt. “I figured out their secret.”

“And?”

“ _ And _ ,” Leo slices a glare at him, “that means they lied to me all summer and pushed me away for something that  _ small _ . Now they’re...now they’re  _ dating _ , and it just cuts me out even more.”

Percy nods in sympathy. Hazel walks over to them and sits on Percy’s left side, away from the unfamiliar boy.

“They care about you,” Percy finally says. “Jason never stops talking about you. Literally  _ never _ . I’m pretty sure he’s in love with you,” he teases. “Three days ago I patrolled with Piper and she kept saying ‘ _ Leo would love this _ ’ and talking about your inventions. You made a grapple hook?”

It’s hard to forget that Leo saved them from the steel mill with Rachel and Grover. He’s a year younger than Percy, powerless, and reserved from what he’s seen of him. But Leo’s brown eyes light up at his words, even if he tries to hide it with a shrug and an eye roll.

“Sure, dude,” he scoffs. “And  _ Drew’s  _ gonna ask me to Homecoming.”

Percy laughs. Hazel snorts a bit from her spot. Leo shrugs modestly.

“Yeah, I made a grapple hook.” His eyes take a faraway gaze. “I made it when I was trying to find Jason and Piper. I’ve only used it a couple of times but— _ shit _ , that was so long ago.”

Percy runs a hand through his hair as his mind wanders. The steel mill feels like a decade ago but, in reality, it’s only been a year. Glancing at the two kids by his side, Percy wonders what happened to them after. None of his teammates talk about it much, they just focus on training and learning how to control their powers.

Maybe they should talk about it more. Maybe they should talk about it because when Percy saw the article about their kidnapping a week ago, his breath had hitched, a year later. Maybe they should talk about it because he caught Hazel crying in the broom closet a couple months ago and, sometimes, she still gets the same look in her eyes.

Maybe they should talk about it because Percy notices Piper accidentally calls Jason “my friend” sometimes, but they always stay together, like the other might fly away if they’re not close. Maybe they should talk about the steel mill because Annabeth makes a point of taking pictures with people and she’s  _ forcing herself _ to talk to everybody in her classes even if she hates it.

Maybe they should talk about the steel mill because Frank pretends to be fine, but Percy hears him softly crying at night when he can’t sleep. Nico and Bianca are friendlier than they were months ago, but they tend to stand separately from the rest of them. The di Angelos remember when they left them behind in the hands of a madwoman, even if it’s subconscious, even if they don’t mean to.

Maybe they should talk about the steel mill because Rachel hovers around, making sure everybody is fine, and she... 

And she tries. And  _ Percy  _ tries. And they’re all trying their best to be heroes in New Rome and help people, but there are things they need to deal with. Things that won’t be fixed if they just pretend to be friends.

Percy drops his head into his hands, wondering where his mind is taking him. Why now? Why on the night his best friend has been shot and why when she’s keeping secrets? Why is he  _ now  _ gaining a shred of emotional intelligence on the night when everything is going wrong?

He’s so caught up in his thoughts, Percy almost misses the stomp of boots down the stairs. His head snaps up to see Jason and Piper staring at Leo, both of them wearing wide eyes and black t-shirts.

“Hey, guys,” Leo says awkwardly. He waves around the room and pulls his mouth into a thin line. Percy catches Annabeth mouthing something at him.

_ Where’s Rachel? _ She’s saying.

_ Talking to Hylla _ , he mouths back. 

“Leo…” Jason sputters and stutters and stares at the curly-haired boy holding a mechanical dragon. “Um...what are you doing here?”

Leo doesn’t bother to look him in the eye. “I had to save my friend’s life after she got shot. You?”

Percy watches Jason cheeks turn red in embarrassment or some other emotion. Piper blinks herself out of her stupor.

“Leo,” she says softly. “Can we talk? The three of us?”

He considers it. Leo’s hand stops fidgeting with the screwdriver at her words. He finally brings his head up to nod.

“Fine,” he says, “but don’t expect me to forgive you.”

Despite everything, as Percy watches them go, he smiles. He barely knows Leo, but even he knows the younger boy has already forgiven them.

* * *

They all pretend not to listen.

Percy paces the length of the training room, nervously tugging his hair and biting his nails. Rachel and Hylla are still talking. Five minutes ago, Hylla’s voice had gone from loud to so quiet, they can only hear if they press their ears against the door.

Annabeth sits on the bench, chewing the ends of her hair nervously, taking nervous glances at the infirmary door.

“Is she gonna get benched?” Percy finally asks. Hylla has been telling them for months that she won’t hesitate to bench them if they do something stupid. She won’t have them getting killed. Annabeth’s grey eyes flicker to the door. Reyna isn’t with her, she had forced Reyna to go to the dorms. 

It’s just them as they wait for Rachel to come out. It’s been seventeen, agonizing minutes.  _ What can be so important that it takes so long to discuss _ , Percy asks himself.  _ What is she hiding? _

“I don’t know,” Annabeth admits. “But, whatever she did, she’ll be fine. It’s not the end of the world.”

Maybe it is, it certainly feels like it. Percy turns away with a huff and continues pacing. He starts to count the seconds, the minutes, usually losing count around second 24 and starting over.

Finally, the door to the infirmary swings open. Annabeth jumps to her feet. Percy spins around, preparing himself for bad news.  _ She’s getting benched, Hylla’s gonna stop training her, She’s going to _ —

“Guys.”

Rachel’s voice is even, her eyes are dry. Annabeth takes a tentative step forward.

“Are you...” The blonde falters, her eyes jump from Rachel to the closed infirmary door. “Are you still with us?”

Rachel presses her lips together. Percy wants to move closer, but his feet are bolted to the floor, glued down by his questions.

“I don’t know,” she answers honestly. Then she’s limping to the door that leads upstairs, tucking an escaped curl behind her ear. “Let’s just go back to school, guys.”

When Percy stays still, Rachel’s eyes beg him to just follow. He’s stuck in a daze, his brain is lagging as it tries to process the events of the night. His eyes scan her for some sort of answer, but they land on the bandage on her thigh.

“Let me help,” he’s muttering. Percy quickly shuffles over to her and slings her right arm over his shoulder, making a point to avoid her gaze. 

“Thanks,” Rachel whispers.

He doesn’t answer. Rachel doesn’t speak.


	14. Choices

Rachel lies on her back and stares at the ceiling.

She doesn’t know why Piper even bothered going to sleep, they’ll have to wake up in an hour anyway. 

The beige roof is boring, and Rachel’s mind already looks for ways to spice it up. Screw color theory, she’s thinking. She can throw shades of red on Piper’s side, then put yellow in the middle. For her side, it can be vibrant orange and a splash of greenish-blue so deep, it could have come from the depths of the Pacific Ocean. 

_ Blue _ .

Rachel thinks of Percy, even if she doesn’t want to. Her leg seems to respond to the thought with a wave of pain, and Rachel is turning in her bed again.

The look in his eyes when he started to realize how much of a fake she is. When he had stared at her at the foot of the steps, like he was looking at a stranger. It’s too much, it’s way too much. Rachel’s earbuds play an indie song, so she turns it up by two. Then Piper mutters and turns in her bed and she has to turn it down again.

Hylla’s words from an hour ago come back to Rachel. They bite at her hopes and prick at her goals, glaring at a huge wall Rachel’s built for herself for the past three years.

_ Three years _ . In the dark, Rachel is reluctantly taken back to the night before her twelfth birthday. When she had witnessed her father kill that woman, when she had come to the realization that he had probably done worse.

“Stop it,” she’s murmuring to herself. “Don’t go back there. Just keep going.”

But can she keep going? Rachel has been doing this alone for the last three years. She’s been training and only she has known the reason why. She’s been investigating on her own, she’s been making breakfast, lunch, and dinner all alone. Rachel has wandered the streets of New York, looking for a shred of evidence against her dad, and found none.

She has pushed her body to its limit, she’s learned every technique she can get her hands on in a short amount of time. Rachel has researched and researched, like that can distract her from her issues.

Honestly, Rachel can’t remember the last time she’s had a vision. It’s like once she came to New Rome, they switched off. It worries her. Two years ago, she had been getting glimpses of the past and future almost weekly.

Her powers are a part of her, just as much as the loneliness.

Most kids spend middle school trying to survive and making friends, but Rachel has been using her powers over time to investigate the criminal underworld. In the process, she realizes that she hasn’t made many friends. Well, not until Percy and Annabeth, but she might have screwed that up, too.

For the first time in a while, Rachel has been feeling like she has it under control. She has (had) a mentor in Hylla. She has (had) friends in Percy, Leo, Annabeth, and every other kid being trained by Hylla. It felt like she had finally found a resting place to close her eyes and breathe.

But now, Hylla’s demand has put a pause. Rachel barely feels the breath passing through her lungs, only the pain from the bullet wound and the weight of her choice.

_ You have one day _ , Hylla had said.  _ I can’t train someone I don’t trust, so you have one day to decide whether or not you’ll be honest _ .  _ Figure out what you want to say, then tell me _ .

Now, Rachel lies awake, Sam Smith blasts through her ears in a way he should not, and choices swirl through her consciousness.

_ Why can’t I come clean? _ Rachel shifts again, and her thigh seems to scream in protest.  _ Just tell them your dad is one of Kronos The Gang Leader’s most trusted buds and you’ve been trying to take him down for three years after you saw him murder someone. _

Easy peasy.

The truth is (and Rachel’s only now admitting it to herself), she’s been alone for so long, she doesn’t know how not to be. 

It seems strange coming from her brain, Rachel is an extravert to the last letter, but it’s true. She’s been carrying this secret for so long, she got strong and it got easier. Her parents never ask what’s wrong with her because they’re never around to notice. When Rachel had hidden Annabeth in her home, she had been too busy trying to work out Annabeth’s situation to come clean about her motives.

_ But it’s always something, right? _ Her mind snarls.  _ You’ll always find an excuse to not talk about it. Even to people you’re supposed to work with for the rest of your life. _

A small tap on the window vanquishes her thoughts. Rachel frowns as the tap persists.

“ _ Rachel _ ,” a familiar voice hisses, “ _ open the door! It’s Percy! _ ”

Surprised, Rachel reaches over to open the window. A faint ghost of chill comes in with Percy, the temperature drops at night. His hair sticks up in every direction, and his green eyes are strangely alert for this time of the night. He closes the window quietly and holds up a bag of blue candy.

“Want some?” He whispers.

Percy is an “actions over words” guy. Rachel slightly smiles as she nods, patting the spot next to her. Her bed dips under his weight as he sits on the edge, tentatively.

They don’t say anything, not for a while. Rachel is busy scrolling through Spotify to distract herself and Percy is busy fiddling with the wrapper on a blue taffy.

Another minute of silent agony goes by and Rachel can’t take it anymore. She tosses her phone to the other side of her bed and turns to face him. She pretends like her leg doesn’t hurt as she stares at him.

“Rachel, I’m-”

“I’m sorry-”

They clamp their mouths shut and stare at each other. Rachel wishes she could visualize the barrier between them and tear it down with her bare hands. She tugs on a strand of newly freed curly hair as he looks away.

“Percy,” she’s saying softly. “You don’t...you don’t have to be sorry for anything. It’s my fault.”

He raises an eyebrow. A small smile that could melt the ice in their interaction plays at his lips. “Getting shot or the whole Hylla situation?”

“Both,” she grimaces. Percy laughs quietly, and Rachel finds herself smiling too. When he sobers, he’s looking at her with an unreadable expression that Rachel is forced to match.

“Are you gonna talk about it?” He asks. “I mean, you don’t have to, of course. I just...you can trust me.”

His words are soft but they steal the breath from her lungs anyway. The darkness acts as a shield, a flimsy one, but a shield nonetheless.

And she can. When Rachel looks at Percy, the words are at the tip of her tongue. She can tell him, she realizes. She trusts him more than she’s ever trusted anybody in her life. The memories she’s buried beneath inhuman drive float to the surface, and tears prick at her eyes.

“Okay,” Rachel sniffles. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she meets his gaze. “Yeah, um, I’ll tell you everything. It’s a hell of a story, though. Promise you won’t go running to the hills?”

He surprises Rachel with a simple gesture. Holding out his pinky for her to link, Percy smiles. His lopsided, troublemaker’s grin is bright enough to light up her room and power New Rome for all eternity.

“I promise.”

When Rachel links their fingers, she tells him everything. She doesn’t let go, even when she gets to the part with Nemesis’ murder, or the nights where she’d collapse outside her door after training for far too long. She doesn’t let go of his calloused, brown pinky finger, even when she tells him about the horrific nightmares brought on by her powers sometimes, glimpses into the past she had never wanted to behold. She doesn’t let go, even when the tears stream down her face and Piper stirs and Percy puts a solid arm around her shoulders.

It’s strange, confessing all her secrets. Rachel feels bare and empty by the time she’s finished. Percy doesn’t let go of her, he doesn’t talk. Neither does Rachel.

She wishes she could have told him when the green fog overtakes her, once more for the first time in a year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok um wow ok   
> thank u so much for reading this 🥺 this story really means a lot to me and it means so much that ppl took care to actually read it.  
> i really appreciate comments! if u have any questions or something, u can always ask!
> 
> visit me on tumblr @blackracheldare

**Author's Note:**

> so um, i chang
> 
> rachel is black  
> percy is dominican-hawaiian (i forgot that poseidon would have dna and i cant see him as anything other than hawaiian lmao)  
> um so yeah im writing chapter 10 rn so yeah expect another update next week and maybe the finished product in 1-3 weeks :) 
> 
> perachel fandom ive got u, loves, im drafting a oneshot because ive noticed the p*rcabeth f*ndom taking over our tag and im the captain of this ship😤😤 we cant let that happen, i promise babes we're gonna blow them out of the water 
> 
> ok bye


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